Golden Eyes
by QuestionablyCapableGhoul
Summary: What happens when representatives from Amestris come to Hogwarts during the age of the Marauders? This does. Mustang's a teacher who views his students as minions. The Marauders are curious about the mystery surrounding Ed's past and Amestris. What could go wrong? DISCONTINUED, but is being rewritten under the name The Doer Alone Learneth.
1. 1

**Hello all! This is my third fanfic on this site!**

 **(Disclaimer: I don't own HP or FMA)**

* * *

"Have you heard?" James asked, feigning a lazy yawn as the Marauders strolled down the train, looking for an available compartment. Strangely enough, all of the compartments they'd passed so far didn't have enough space for the four of them.

"What? That rumour about an alchemy class?" Sirius drawled, uninterested. "That's a load of rubbish. Alchemy's a dead magic, and a bloody useless one, too."

"Hm," James replied, pondering his friend's words, "You're no fun, Padfoot. Just think about it!"

Sirius shot him a smirk.

"Why're _all_ of these compartments full - oh! This one's not!" Sirius opened the door to a mostly empty compartment.

The sole inhabitant was a golden-haired teen with their nose in a book.

"Do you mind if we sit here?" Remus asked quietly.

"Nah," the person shrugged, glancing absently up from their book to regard them with keen golden eyes. _Golden?_ Remus tucked the thought away to address later.

The Marauders filed in, stacking their luggage on the overhead rack and sitting down.

"But don't you think it would be interesting? Alchemy, I mean. Turning lead into gold and all!" James resumed his earlier line of thought.

Remus noticed the blonde twitch.

"I suppose, Prongs, but why would they teach us that sort of stuff?" Remus said. "It's a dead magic - there's hardly any use!"

James sighed and turned his attention to the window. It was only for a moment, then a thought suddenly struck him. "Say, are you a first-year? I don't think I've seen you around Hogwarts-"

The blonde scoffed. "What a ridiculous name." They could make out a smile behind his book.

"I guess it is, isn't it?" Sirius asked, eyes glinting amusedly and mouth pulled up into a smirk. "Wonder who came up with it?"

The long-haired blonde shot back with an equally devious expression before offering a gloved hand to the dark-haired teen. "Edward Elric. Call me Ed."

"Sirius Black," he took the blonde's hand.

"James Potter," James grinned, eyes lighting up.

Remus smiled a bit wearily and waved. "Remus Lupin."

"P-Peter Pettigrew!" Peter squeaked.

Remus leaned slightly towards Ed. "What were you reading?"

" _A History of Hogwarts_ ," Ed said, tripping up on the last word. "At first I thought all this magic stuff was a load of bullshit, but…" he trailed off, shrugging.

By now they had assumed that he was a first-year. Who else would be so clueless about magic?

"You're a Muggleborn?" Remus asked, surprised. With his air and elegant features, he'd seemed a bit pure-blooded.

Ed grinned slightly. "I guess you could say that."

"So what house do you want to be in?" James asked.

"If I had to pick, I'd say Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor."

James brightened even more. "Brilliant! You didn't pick Slytherin! It would be a shame for such a promising youngster-" At this, Remus noticed that Ed's face darkened, though he couldn't imagine why- "-to be lost to the clutched of the house of the Great Slimy Git."

"I've met my fair share of bastards. Can't say I don't enjoy pissing them off," Ed leaned back, fingers tapping idly on _A History of Magic_. He flipped it open again and continued reading.

The Marauders, taking that as a sign that the conversation was over, scooted closer together and launched themselves into an argument about which one of their professors was worse.

. . .

Internally, Ed was freaking out. These wizard bastards were weird! It wasn't just the existence of magic, no, now they had castles for schools and giant squids and Truth knew what else!

It was then that Ed came to an obvious and unsurprising conclusion: Wizards were fucking insane.

So, with an inaudible sigh and a mental reminder of a potential court-martial, Edward Elric resigned himself to his fate.

. . .

After they got off the train, the Marauders lost sight of Ed. Not that they were surprised, he was probably a first-year and would be in the boats with the other midgets. It gave them ample time to discuss the blonde as they rode in the horseless carriage towards Hogwarts.

"He has golden eyes," Remus remarked, "Do you think he's a werewolf, like...me?"

"Why don't you ask him? If he is, you can reassure him that his secret's safe with a fellow werewolf, and if he isn't, don't tell him," Sirius suggested absently, flipping through a worn Muggle magazine about motorbikes.

"Well, that's a problem for another time, mate," James said. "Do you think he'd be any good at Quidditch?"

"Maybe," Sirius said, eyes glinting excitedly at the prospect of playing Quidditch, "He gives the impression of someone who's down with a few pranks. What d'you think about making him our protégé?"

"Let's ask him later," James said.

"His hair's very long," Peter offered hesitantly, a complete non sequitur.

. . .

Ed was pissed. Very pissed. And soaking wet. "Hey!" He shouted. "You little bastard!"

A small, ugly, flying man with an armful of balloons cackled. "Look who's talking, pipsqueak!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING PEA-SIZED, DAMMIT!"

The first-years watched the spectacle, wide-eyed. Ed was jumping (rather awkwardly), trying to catch Peeves. It was difficult without alchemy (Mustang's directions had been annoyingly specific, leaving no loopholes for Ed to use it) and with his imbalanced limbs, jumping was hard. "Dammit!" Ed cried again, angrily.

"Young man!" Minerva McGonagall's voice rang through the hall, disapproving. "Peeves! Stop this at once!"

With a feigned pout followed by a snicker, Peeves zoomed away, leaving a smoldering Ed.

"You're the transfer from Amestris, correct?" The austere-looking woman asked, frowning. "Edward Elric?"

"Yeah," Ed replied, "Call me Ed." The golden-haired alchemist shot one last glare in the direction Peeves had shot off in.

"Very well." She added loudly, "Come this way! First-years! Follow me!"

With apprehensive expressions, the first-years followed behind the tall woman and the dripping blonde through the large, ornate golden doors that lead to the Great Hall.

. . .

"Look, there the midget is! Looks like Peeves got him!" Sirius remarked, amusement shining in his dark eyes.

"He's not wearing his robes," Remus remarked with a frown.

"I'm surprised McGonagall didn't bite his head off," James responded. "His clothes are very odd."

It was true; Ed was wearing black leather pants, heavy boots, a long red coat, and white gloves. Not to mention, he was scowling and slouching, something McGonagall disapproved of immensely.

As the first years finished murmuring in awe at the enchanted ceiling, Dumbledore stood up - an unusual occurrence, since he typically saved his speech for after the Sorting. "Before we welcome the first-years to Hogwarts, I'd like to announce that in an arrangement with the nation of Amestris, Hogwarts has opened it's doors to Colonel Roy Mustang-"

At Dumbledore's sweeping gesture, a dark-eyed man with short black hair, a smug expression, and a stiff blue uniform stood up for a moment before taking his seat again.

"-Who will be teaching alchemy, available to third-years and up-"

He went silent as the Great Hall filled with excited muttering.

"It wasn't a rumor!" James crowed, poking Sirius. "You were wrong, Padfoot!"

Sirius chuckled. "We're fifth-years. That means we can take it."

"I haven't heard of Amestris before," Remus mused, "I think I'll head to the library after the feast."

James sighed, grinning a little, "You and your bloody books, Moony."

After the hall fell back into silence, Dumbledore resumed his speech.

"-And Major Edward Elric, who will be joining the student body as a fifth-year. If you would," he gestured to Ed, who stepped up onto the raised floor. He was still dripping with water.

"Ed?" James asked, "Wait - Major?"

The golden-haired teen walked up to the Sorting Hat, which looked unusually battered and dirty in the light cast by innumerable floating candles. "Please, call me Ed," He chuckled, unafraid of the burning curiosity of the student body, "Usually if someone's using my full name, they're trying to kill me. So, I put this hat on?" The blonde asked, eyeing the hat before he shrugged.

And with that, he hopped onto the stool and dropped the hat on his head, where it slid down over his eyes.

. . .

 _You're very cunning,_ the hat muttered, and Ed started a little. _And ambitious. You could be a Slytherin. But you're also intelligent, with a good work ethic - when you think it's important. Loyal. Brave._

 _Is this the work of a soul-bind?_ Ed wondered. _It's very advanced. I doubt I could make it._

 _Yes, very intelligent indeed - and curious, too._ The hat commented. _Honestly, I don't remember anymore. Too many years have gone by._ It switched topics again. _I see a lot of bravery in you, though. Even to the point of reckless idiocy._

 _Haha, that's true._ Ed chuckled.

 _Best put you in-_ "Gryffindor!" The hat shouted.

There was a round of confused applause and cheering from the Gryffindor table, and as Ed walked down to an empty seat - conveniently situated by the Marauders - he looked over his shoulder to see Mustang's smug smirk. Why did he always look so smug?

The alchemist sat down absentmindedly, and subsequently, he jumped when Sirius leaned over with a grin and said loudly - the Sorting Hat had begun it's longwinded song - "Welcome to Gryffindor, _Major_ Ed. You're in our year, so we can show you around."

Ed grinned and rubbed his neck. "Thanks."

"What's up with that?" James asked, "Major? Colonel?"

"Yeah, Amestris is a military nation."

"But you're so tiny!" James exclaimed. Wrong choice of words.

"DAMMIT, I'M FIFTEEN! WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO TINY THAT YOU COULD SQUASH HIM UNDER YOUR SHOE?!"

A momentary lull in the hubbub around them went unnoticed as Remus leaned across James, concerned, and not put off in the slightest by his outburst. "Fifteen? And in the military?! Isn't that dangerous? Aren't you a bit young?"

"I'm in a ... special branch. There wasn't an age limit since they didn't think a twelve-year-old could meet the requirements for the exam. I'm a genius," Ed told them proudly, lacing his gloved fingers behind his head.

"You joined when you were twelve?" James asked, eyes lighting up. "Didn't your parents think it was dangerous?"

"Parents? Who said anything about parents?" Ed forced a grin.

"You ran away?" Peter asked.

"Nah. My dad's a good-for-nothing bastard who left us when we were young. He didn't even come to our mom's funeral."

"Oh," James said, taking note of Ed's gloomy tone and darkened expression.

They fell into silence, turning their attention back up to the front of the hall, where the last first-year was being Sorted. "Avaro, Maiza!" A pause, then, "Ravenclaw!"

Dumbledore rose again. "I'd like to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is exactly that - forbidden. A few of you would do well to remember." His blue eyes landed briefly on the Marauders before he continued.

"Mr. Filch would also like me to remind you, for what he tells me is the one-hundred and thirty-seventh time, that spells are banned in the halls, along with a number of other things that are in a list tacked to your announcement boards and in his office. Lastly, I am happy to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark arts teacher, Professor Michaelis!"

At his words, a tall, dark-haired woman in a black blazer, slacks, and a white dress shirt stood up, inclined her head slightly, and sat down again.

"Now, let us dig in!" Dumbledore smiled broadly before taking his seat.

. . .

"We get a new Defense teacher every year," Sirius said conversationally as he reached for a roll from a platter that had appeared before them just seconds ago.

"The position's cursed," Peter put in.

"How does it work?" Ed asked, tearing himself away from glaring ferociously at a jug of milk, then muttered something that sounded like, 'Equivalent exchange'.

"What? The food? House-elves down in the kitchens make it and send it up. Even wizards can't make something out of nothing."

"Dammit," Ed groaned, slumping in his seat, his expression an odd mixture of relieved and disappointed. "So it's really only the Philosopher's stone. Damn."

"Philosopher's Stone?" Remus asked, adding the words to the growing list of things he had to look up. That reminded him of the question he had to ask Ed. He could do it later, after all, it was only him, Sirius, James, Peter, and now Ed in the fifth-year boy's dorm.

"Nothing," Ed said, "So, elves? You wizards really do like to make everything magical."

"What do you mean? Aren't you a wizard?" James asked, a forkful of chicken halfway to his mouth.

"I'm an - yeah." Ed grinned. Sirius narrowed his eyes suspiciously. What had Ed been about to say?

The long-haired blonde leaned over to grab a soup ladle, glaring at a nearby jug of milk as he did so. Remus, who had been sitting next to him, caught sight of an odd symbol on the back of his long coat.

Yet another curiosity to research in the library. Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes, already mentally preparing for the rigorous search he was going to do after dinner.

. . .

"Here's our dorm. The luggage should already be in there," James told Ed brightly, throwing open a door. Between the many moving paintings (Ed even saw a giraffe loping calmly through frames), moving staircases, and hidden traps, it had been further verified in Ed's mind that wizards were crazy, so stepping into the room without something weird happening was a relief.

The room was circular, with a doorway leading to what Ed guessed was a bathroom, and five four-poster beds set evenly along the stone walls, each with piles of luggage at the foot and a small table by its side.

"Great," Ed yawned, stretching. "I could really use some sleep. We don't start classes early tomorrow, do we?"

"No," James replied, running a hand through his thick black hair. "We get our class schedules at breakfast, but that's not very early. Are you going to unpack?" He added, watching as Ed flopped down on his bed with a groan.

"Nah." Ed scooted farther back onto the bed and swung his leg up. Getting to his knees, fully dressed, he pulled his curtains shut.

Shrugging, James looked at Peter and Sirius, who were either crouching by their bags or lounging in a sitting position on their bed. Walking up to Ed's curtains, he heard a faint snoring. "He's asleep," he said with astonishment. "I guess Moony can just ask him tomorrow. Wanna sneak out after Moony gets back?"

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and please review!**

 **Adios!**


	2. 2

**Bonjour! Second chapter!**

* * *

 _Ed walked into Mustang's office, where the Colonel sat at his desk, elbows on the surface, fingers laced together, and a smirk on his face. "The Fuhrer has a mission for you, Fullmetal," he told Ed smugly._

 _The blonde flopped down onto the couch and gave Mustang a lazy glare. "What is it?"_

 _"You've been assigned to a school-" Mustang took a moment to stifle a snigger, "-for magic."_

 _Ed laughed so hard that he fell off of the couch. Teary-eyed, he asked, voice full of mirth, "You really thought I'd believe that? You had me woken up for that?" He got to his feet and strode over to the door, hands in pockets._

 _Before he could even bring one out to open the door, it opened and Fuhrer Bradley, smiling, stepped in. "I'm afraid it's not a joke, Major Elric. You're being sent there as part of a diplomatic representative of Amestris. The wizarding community is powerful and we could use their power."_

 _"You're not going alone, Major," he continued, fixing his one-eyed gaze on Colonel Mustang, who had been trying to hide his amusement. "Colonel Mustang will be accompanying you in order to finalize ties with their Ministry and to teach alchemy at the school."_

 _Mustang's expression now matched Ed's._

 _"A representative from the school will come for you at two. I'll be expecting monthly reports, and your assessments will still take place. It's all been arranged with the school."_

 _Fuhrer Bradley swept out of the office._

 _Ed turned to Mustang, grinning. "What were you saying?"_

 _Mustang glared at him and snapped, "Midget."_

 _"WHO ARE YOU CALLING MICROSCOPIC, BASTARD?!"_

 _. . ._

 _At two o'clock, Ed was lounging on the couch in Mustang's office, a small suitcase resting at his feet. Mustang, Riza, Al and Armstrong (who was sobbing dramatically) were gathered in the room as well._

 _Having been briefed on the details of the mission, Ed muttered, "How the hell are we supposed to get to England, anyway?"_

 _He was answered with a loud crack! as a large, grey-haired man appeared out of nowhere. He blinked a few times and glanced around._

 _The man jumped, startled, when Ed jumped up, fists ready, shouting, "What the hell?!" Mustang let out a string of curses, and Riza raised her gun to the ready._

 _When his wondering eyes landed on Mustang, he smiled broadly. "You must be Colonel Roy Mustang. I'm Horace Slughorn, from the school." Horace extended a pudgy hand, which Mustang took. "I've heard about a certain Major Edward Elric…" he peered around before his eyes landed on Armstrong. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Major Elric!" Horace lifted a hand towards the muscular blonde._

 _"Hey!" Ed exclaimed, "I'm Edward Elric!" He waved his arms, glaring at Horace and Mustang, the latter of whom was silently chuckling._

 _"Oh!" the wizard said, frowning, "Aren't you a bit young?"_

 _"DAMMIT, I'M FIFTEEN!"_

 _"Oh," he said again, this time without surprise, "Well, then, I see. Er, shall we go, then?"_

 _"Wait!" Al called, "Can I say goodbye?"_

 _"Er, well, I suppose," Horace said._

 _Al swept Ed up in a stiff hug. "I'll miss you, brother! Make sure to write, and don't break anything, alright?"_

 _"I won't, I don't want a wrench to the head. Please let go, Al, you're crushing me!" Ed wheezed._

 _He was released, only to be swept up into another hug by Louis Armstrong. "I'll miss you, Edward!" Tears streamed down Armstrong's face. He sparkled._

 _Meanwhile, Riza had approached Mustang with a salute, and said, "Don't do anything stupid, sir." He smirked in response. "When do I ever?"_

 _She glared, poker-faced, at him, and he paled._

 _"Alright then, let's get going." Horace interrupted. "If you will," he said, holding out his arm, which Ed and Mustang hesitantly gripped._

 _Grinning slightly, the golden-haired alchemist looked at Al. "I'll wri-"_

 _And with another crack! they were gone._

 _. . ._

 _Ed's school books and supplies had already been paid for and picked up, courtesy of his impressive funding, including books for the four years he'd have to catch up on._

 _After the school representative - Horace Slughorn - had dropped them off in the shabby inn known as The Leaky Cauldron and Tom had shown them to their rooms, Mustang had been picked up by a wizard in a suit - it was for a meeting with the Ministry - and Ed had retreated to his room to read._

 _He and the Colonel had arrived on July 19th, and by the 27th - after far too many sleepless nights - Ed had caught up and was starting in on the fifth-year books._

 _The meals had been provided by a nosy maid, who always snuck a peek into Ed's cluttered room, nose wrinkling at the ever-increasing disarray._

 _When the blonde was halfway through The Essentials of Defense Against the Dark Arts (Fifth Year), he felt a sudden urge to wander outside. Reminding himself that he had a whole month to spend here, he set his book down, got dressed, and exited through the back of the inn where he'd been shown the way into what was called Diagon Alley._

 _The sun was shining brightly, which was a welcome change from the weather outside the last time Ed had bothered to push aside the dusty green curtains over his window. How many days ago had that been? Five?_

 _Diagon Alley was lined with shops so different that it looked like an odd patchwork. Decrepit, faded shops leaned precariously, squeezed between tall, freshly painted buildings, and their steps were cluttered with birdcages, furniture, and fallen signs. Among this all bustled all varieties of people: impatient children trailing after flustered parents, old wizards haggling over prices at scattered stalls, and teens excitedly pulling each other along, hands full of bags._

 _At the end of the long street, where it branched off into two more streets, proudly stood a large, pristine building, complete with elaborate golden gilding and sturdy pillars. Awash with the warmth of sunlight, it was truly a sight to behold. Grinning like a sugar-hyped child, Ed set foot into the hubbub of the Wizarding World._

 _. . ._

 _Between his books and the many fascinating things in Diagon Alley, the month passed quickly, and Ed found himself frantically shoving various things into a suitcase, letting out a constant stream of 'dammit's. Mustang, who he'd hardly seen during their all-too brief time there, had already left, leaving Ed to the mercies of his foul-tempered Ministry cab driver. The grizzled wizard was honking his horn without pause, irking the patrons of the inn's bar and only making Ed more hurried._

 _With a final triumphant shout, Ed got the last book into his straining bag and leapt down the stairs, landing each time with a loud thump. He jumped into the back of the cab, glaring at the driver, who returned the look with extra viciousness, but pressed his foot to the pedal._

 _When they arrived at King's Cross, Ed got out of the cab with unsteady legs, shaken by the driver's driving - which he was pretty sure was not within the bounds of what could be considered 'legally safe'._

 _It was with great relief that he watched the cab swerve away, before turning and shading his eyes against the sun, taking in the train station. Grinning, Ed stepped forward._

 _. . ._

"Great!" James shouted, "I've got Alchemy first class!" His excitement earned stares from all over the Great Hall. Not that he cared.

"Dammit," Ed groaned, "Me too."

"Aren't you excited?" James asked, eyes shining with anticipation.

"No, because Colonel Bastard is a smug bastard. Hence the name." Yawning, Ed grabbed a muffin.

"Lily!" James exclaimed loudly again, and everyone in the Great Hall (with the exception of the first-years and Amestrians) sighed. James Potter's undying love for Lily Evans was common knowledge. The messy-haired Gryffindor ran up to the redhead.

"I didn't see you at dinner, but never mind!" He grinned, then kneeled dramatically. "Lily Evans, will you go out with me?"

"No. Go away, James!" The ginger pulled him to his feet and pushed him back towards the Marauders and Ed. He turned to them with a disappointed groan. "Rejected again."

"What is this, the three-hundred and fiftieth time?" Sirius asked, sticking his tongue out at James.

"I thought it was the five-hundred and twelfth," commented Peter.

Ed reached for a silver jug and was about to pour himself a drink before he stopped and glared vehemently at it.

"What?" Sirius asked.

"It's milk." Loathing filled Ed's voice, and James couldn't help but notice that his golden eyes were filled with a hatred that James had never seen before. It seemed like the kind of feeling you would reserve for someone who'd murdered your family, not, well, milk. Thinking about Ed's unusual eyes reminded James of the conversation they'd had earlier.

 _. . ._

 _"Wake up, Ed!" James yelled, throwing open Ed's curtains. Strangely enough, the blonde was fully clothed, and still snoring, despite the noise. The black-haired teen shook Ed until the blonde groaned and opened his eyes._

 _"Dammit," he muttered, tears shining in his eyes, "I woke up."_

 _Quiet for a moment, James burst out laughing. "You're about to cry over that?"_

 _"Don't laugh at me," Ed threw a pillow at him, "It's a tragedy."_

 _James chuckled, before Remus coughed a little._

 _"Oh yeah, Ed, Moony over there would like to ask you something. D'you mind?"_

 _Ed shrugged, now cross-legged on the bed, and regretfully said, "I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep again. Ask away."_

 _Remus sighed with relief and came over to sit on the bed next to Ed's. "Are you a werewolf?"_

 _Ed stared at him for a moment, and then exploded with laughter. "Me...a werewolf?"_

 _Immediately the werewolf blushed a deep red. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean...er…!" This just made Ed laugh harder. After his laughter faded, Remus explained, "I just thought you were a werewolf because of your eyes…" He chuckled awkwardly._

 _"My eyes?" Ed asked._

 _"Werewolves have golden eyes," Remus said._

 _Ed's eyes narrowed a bit as he leaned back and smiled. "Nah, it's just something that runs in my family." His stomach growled, and he rubbed it, his expression turning sheepish. "Do you think you guys could show me to where all the food is? I'm starving!"_

 _. . ._

"Fullmetal! How are you adjusting to," Mustang's voice became very smug, "student life?" He was standing at the front of the classroom and had addressed Ed as he'd walked in shortly after James and Peter, who also had Alchemy first.

"Ha! How are you going to teach this class," Ed retorted, "without burning anything? What did Hawkeye say, 'anything stupid', right?" He flopped into a seat next to James and Peter, looking pleased with himself.

"Mate, are you really allowed to talk to your superior like that?" James whispered, running a hand through his dark hair. "And what was that about 'adjusting to student life'?"

"I haven't been to school in years," Ed told them casually.

Peter gasped. "Years?!"

James whistled lowly.

"I didn't really see a point in it. We had our bastard father's books and then," he shuddered, "Izumi. The things she did to us…"

"Us?" James asked.

"My brother, Al, and I."

"Oh. What did she do?"

"A lot of things, but the one that comes most vividly to mind is when we first started training under her. She took us to an abandoned island and left us there for a month."

They were stopped from asking any more questions when Mustang clapped his hands and barked, "In case you midgets-" Ed growled, "-didn't know, I'm Colonel Roy Mustang. I'm going to be your Alchemy professor this year, which means you all-" he gestured broadly to the class, "-are now my minions."

He was met with silence.

"Does anyone have any assumptions as to what alchemy is?"

A hand was raised.

"Yes. You there."

"Isn't alchemy a dead magic? Weren't the only things you could do with it was turn lead to gold?"

At this, both Amestrian's faces darkened with disappointment, and Mustang said, "Nearly everything about that answer was wrong. First, alchemy is a science, not a magic. It's based on chemical formulas, scientific knowledge and theories, logic, and rigid laws. Second, you can do a lot more with alchemy than make gold out of lead. That is possible, but illegal. It's bad for the economy."

Ed watched Mustang teach, rather impressed. Who knew the smug bastard could actually handle a teaching position. But they were only so far in. Ed would've bet his arm that Mustang wouldn't be so capable later.

"Any more, probably equally idiotic, guesses?"

Silence.

"I'd better tell you all what alchemy is, then. It's a science, as I've already told you, with which you can dramatically or subtly alter a material, using natural energy." He paused, seeing a hand raised high. Sighing, he asked, "Yes?"

"Why do we need alchemy, then, if we've already got transfiguration?"

"Because, unlike magic, you don't need a pretty stick. All you need is a writing utensil - preferably chalk." Faint gasps were heard.

Smirking, as he did so often, Mustang turned to the chalkboard and began writing, narrating as he did so.

"Now, there are laws in alchemy. The first and foremost being equivalent exchange. Every alchemist knows this. We cannot gain anything without giving something of equal value in return. That's all you need to know for now. Next is the three parts of alchemy. Comprehension, deconstruction, and reconstruction. Do you idiots understand so far?"

"Hey, Colonel, you're not half as bad at this as I thought you'd be. I'm surprised nothing's on fire yet." Ed called.

"You will be," the Colonel said, "If you keep on interrupting, Fullmetal. Now shut up." He directed his attention back to the class, all of whom were staring at Ed like he was some sort of immense oddity. "I'll explain the individual steps. To start, comprehension, which I assume will take a while for you scientifically ignorant wizards to master. To succeed at performing alchemy, you need to have an understanding of the structure and properties of the atomic makeup of the thing you have the intent of altering, including the flow of energy through the material."

When the man paused to collect his thoughts again, James moaned quietly. "I'm already lost and we haven't even got halfway through the lesson."

"Deconstruction," the Amestrian continued, "is using energy to break down the material to a more malleable state so it's easily reconstructed into something else. And lastly, there is reconstruction, which is simply continuing the flow of energy to reshape the material. Now, you're probably trying to sort through your tiny, cluttered little teenage minds to remember when I said anything about how to direct the energy. I didn't, so stop straining your brain cells."

He turned back to the chalkboard and drew a perfect circle. " You direct the energy with an alchemical array. Different symbols correspond to different elements, so correctly drawing the array is critical. The essential part of the array is the circle, which is the main circuit through which energy flows. I'll stop here before you fry your brains, and I'll demonstrate some alchemy."

Immediately the class perked up, with the sole exception of Ed, who was leaning precariously back in his chair and snoring lightly.

Mustang snapped his fingers, sending a blossom of flame into the air. A chorus of 'whoa's and 'cool's was heard as the students watched excitedly.

Someone raised their hand, and blurted out, "Sir - Colonel - how'd you do that without an array?"

"I didn't. Instead of drawing an array each time you'd like to manipulate matter, many alchemists have an area of specialty and have specific arrays either tattooed into their skin or embroidered onto clothing, like my gloves." He showed the arrays on the backs of his gloves.

"Now get lost, idiots. Class dismissed."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and please review.**

 **I will always be proud of that ending line.**

 **Until next time!**


	3. 3

**Aaaand it's chapter three! Have fun!**

* * *

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, well, as uneventfully as it could get when you mix Edward Elric and magic. Aside from Alchemy, Ed had Arithmancy, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, the last of which was spent as a study hour because the professor was absent.

The next day was different. Sirius, this time, shook the blonde awake. Instead of nearly crying, Ed shouted "Dammit!"

At breakfast, James snatched up Ed's schedule, which he was carrying around in order to remember his classes.

"You have a break instead of fifth period? Great, Padfoot and Wormtail and I have it off, too! D'you wanna play some Quidditch?"

"What's that?" Ed asked, sticking a straw into a glass of juice.

"What's that? _What's that?_ " James pressed his hand against his chest, pretending to be offended. "It's only the best wizarding sport in existence! C'mon, d'you wanna try it out?"

The blonde paused and contemplated it. It sounded fun, and he had nothing better to do; he'd already finished his homework, which took him a better part of the night. "Sure," he replied.

First period was spent in Transfiguration, which did not go well for Ed. It started bad and got worse. He was late trying to find classroom 1B, which was on the ground floor by the Middle Courtyard. By the time the blonde skidded into the classroom, Professor McGonagall had just deposited a guinea fowl on each student's desk. (They were, of course, caged.)

"You're late, Mr Elric."

"Hehe, yeah, sorry!" he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I got lost. This school is so damn big!"

"Language, Mr Elric! Sit down. Five points from Gryffindor," the professor turned her attention back to the class. "Now, take out your wands. You will be turning guinea fowl," she gestured to the large, caged birds, "into guinea pigs. The incantation is-"

Ed stood up abruptly, making his chair fall over with a bang. His eyes were wide with horror.

"What is it, Mr Elric?" McGonagall asked, half-concerned and half-irritated.

"That's twisted!" he shouted, slamming a fist into his desk. "How could you think this is okay, dammit?!"

"Mr Elric!" the professor snapped, "The guinea fowl will be perfectly fine! Allow me to demonstrate," and she waved her wand at one of the birds, nonverbally incanting. In a matter of seconds, it was a guinea pig. With another wave of her wand, the guinea pig reverted to its original state.

She'd incorrectly assumed that this would pacify Ed; a number of students had had the same problem with Transfiguration in the past and a display of the harmless process had soothed their qualms.

It did quite the opposite for Ed; now, instead of looking angry, he looked horrified. "Nina!" the blonde whispered, now seeing something the rest of them didn't, "Nina - no - it wasn't - how could he-?! That bastard!"

"Remus," Professor McGonagall addressed the werewolf, who'd been staring worriedly at the Amestrian, "could you escort Mr Elric to the hospital wing?"

Her brow furrowed with confusion and concern as she watched the brunet take Ed, who was now lost in some horrid place in his mind, by the shoulders and walk him out of the classroom. Reminding herself to discuss it with Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore later, McGonagall called the class back to attention and resumed the lesson.

. . .

"Nina! NINA!" Ed's voice cracked as he jolted upright. Taking a few deep breaths, he looked around and found himself in a cot with white sheets, in a room that vaguely resembled hospitals. It was unfortunate how familiar it felt.

"Whoa, Ed, mate, you alright?" James asked. The Marauders were crowded around the foot of his bed.

"Yeah," he responded, looking rather puzzled, "Why are you here?" He'd only known the energetic, black-haired wizard for two days, so there was no reason for him to be there.

"You're a likable guy," James told him, eyes glinting mischievously, "And I reckon you'd be good for a few pranks."

Remus shoved the dark-haired wizard. "We were worried about you. Who's Nina?"

Ed's small grin fell away, and his eyes turned sad. "Just someone from a long time ago. It's nothing."

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Sirius asked.

"I said, it's nothing. You wizards are damn pushy." Ed growled, then looked around once again. "Where am I?"

"The hospital wing," Peter told him (rather nervously, it seemed to be a personality trait), "Moony took you here after you flipped out in Transfiguration."

"Damn wizards, messing with natural laws," Ed muttered.

"Huh?" James asked.

"Nothing. Can I go now? I want to-"

"Fullmetal!" Colonel Mustang burst into the room, a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey trailing closely behind. "I heard about what happened in Professor McGonagall's class. Are you an idiot? We're here on a diplomatic mission, so we can't have you doing reckless things like you usually do."

"Colonel Bastard, why the hell am I supposed to attend these classes? I can't even do magic!" Ed scowled.

"Wait, you can't do magic?" Remus asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah," the blonde said, "now can I go? I want to check out the library."

Madam Pomfrey tutted. "You should stay a while lon-" Mustang held up a hand. "Shorty here would sneak out anyway. Let him-"

The recent trend of being cut off lived up to its reputation when Ed yelled, "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE COULD BE CRUSHED UNDER A SHOE?!"

Mustang smirked, and Madam Pomfrey went pale. "Language, young man!"

Ed ignored her and swung his legs over the side of the bed, landing with an unnaturally heavy _thump_. "I'll be in the library," he announced to no one in particular. Tugging his white gloves more securely on his hands, Ed strolled out of the room.

. . .

Ed had been submerged in the library, only showing up, hurried-looking and disoriented, to his classes, before rushing off to the library again.

Somehow, Ed had at least one of the Marauders in each of his classes; Sirius in History of Magic, which Ed fell asleep in, as did the rest of the class, Peter and Remus in Potions (in which Slughorn showered Ed with praise for his skill at potion-making. When asked, he merely responded, "I understand science."), and Defense Against the Dark Arts with all of the Marauders.

Unlike the previous day, Professor Michaelis was present. Standing tall at the front of the classroom in a crisp, tieless suit, she scanned them all with keen eyes. "Today I'll be informing you of what we'll be covering over the course of the year. It has come to my attention that although you all have a thorough understanding of the spellwork required up to this year, and I will continue that line of education. Your knowledge of the Dark creatures required, however, is severely lacking. We'll spend the first two months catching up, ending with boggarts. You might want to read up on those; I've seen some wizards with incredible spell knowledge but sadly little creature knowledge brought to their knees by what they've seen. Luckily, I doubt that so early in your life you've developed such fears."

After that short speech, she passed out tests to see how advanced their knowledge was. That was most likely why she'd been absent on the first day. The rest of the class passed in silence, Professor Michaelis's icy gaze discouraging any troublemaking - for that day, at least.

. . .

"He's a bit strange," Peter said, breaking the silence that they'd been submerged in as they sat in their dorm room after dinner. Ed was still in the library.

"Who, Ed?" James asked, idly playing with a Snitch. His dark hair was messy, and he was draped haphazardly across his bed.

"Who else? You're right, Wormtail, he's weird. He can't do magic, Transfiguration makes him flip out...and who here's ever heard of Amestris?" Lounging against James's bed, Sirius was sketching on a spare piece of parchment, grinning evilly.

"How could he come here if they couldn't do magic? Why're they here in the first place?" Peter asked, twitching his fingers as he perched on his bed.

"Weren't you listening? They're here on a diplomatic mission - Amestris is a military nation and probably wants the Ministry to help them with something. Hogwarts is probably considered a place of cultural relevance, not to mention that Professor Dumbledore is an immensely powerful wizard. That's not what's odd, though," Remus flipped the page of his book absently, "I think what's odd is his reaction to transmutation, his gloves, his air of secrecy. I couldn't find anything on Amestris in the library, but I could only look for so long. Still, it's queer. Why wouldn't he tell us who Nina was? Why doesn't he ever change his clothes, or at least take off his gloves and boots?"

"Maybe he's got terrible scars. Maybe he's got bad memories about Nina - he is part of the military after all. It's perfectly explainable," Sirius said, shrugging.

"Why hasn't he been to school in years? Why does Professor - Colonel - Mustang call him Fullmetal?" Remus ignored his friend's suggestions, his curiosity overflowing.

"Why don't we ask him when he gets back?" James suggested before bursting into malicious laughter; Sirius had just shown him the rather unflattering caricatures of their professors and least favorite Slytherins (meaning: Severus Snape) that he'd drawn.

Not a moment after he said it, Ed wearily trudged in, collapsing on his bed, arms full of dusty tomes.

"How was the library?" Remus queried, shutting his book with a small sigh.

Ed was silent, then he flipped over and sat up. Yawning, he replied, "Amazing! There were so many books! Sciezka would be like a child on a sugar high!"

"Who's Sciezka?" James asked lazily, pocketing the Snitch.

"A friend back in the military. She's got photographic memory, which helped us a lot with the- never mind." Ed looked down at a silver pocket watch, eyes dark with memories.

Remus narrowed his eyes. Then he asked another question. "Why does Colonel Mustang call you Fullmetal? That's an odd nickname."

Ed paused for a moment, considering. "Well, that's a title I carry in the military. It's a long story, and I'm too tired to tell it. Besides, why do you call each other Wormtail, Padfoot, Moony, and Prongs? I'm going to sleep now. You probably need sleep, too." With that, he pulled his curtains closed around him and his pile of books.

James glanced around at his friends. When they all nodded, he got up and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak from beneath his bed. In one swift movement, he had the Cloak draped neatly over the four of them, and they exited the room.

. . .

They were sitting in the Room of Requirement, which had arranged itself to look like a grassy clearing, a few trees scattered about. James was sitting on a swing, which was knotted to a sturdy tree branch. Sirius and Peter were leaning against its trunk. Remus, however, was pacing.

"He looked at me when he said it! Does he know? How could he know? It doesn't make sense..!" He ran his hands through his sandy brown hair.

James held up a hand. "You're jumping to conclusions. Calm down, Moony. It's probably just coincidence. He never even knew about magic a while ago!" He was different from his usual carefree self; his green eyes were serious and his hands were resting on the swing's ropes, white-knuckled. "It frustrates me, though! I can't figure him out! It _is_ odd that he noticed our nicknames so soon."

The dark-haired teen turned to Sirius and Peter, flicking his glance to Remus. "Say, d'you wanna find out his secrets?"

They gave him varying responses, all positive.

"Great," he grinned, eyes shining with mischievous light.

. . .

" _You will be turning these guinea fowl into guinea pigs," McGonagall said, advancing towards him. In one hand was a caged guinea fowl, the large-bodied bird squawking in alarm. With her free hand, she pulled out her wand. "The incantation is-"_

 _McGonagall turned into Nina, tiny and cute and smiling, holding a snowball in her small gloved hands. Alexander was lounging beside her in the snow, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he surveyed his surroundings happily._

" _Big brother!" she called eagerly. "D'you wanna play?" She held up the snowball eagerly, eyes shining with excitement._

" _Sure," he replied, a mix of nostalgia, sadness, and warmth swirling in his chest. He crouched down, balling snow in his hands. "Let's play, Ni-"_

" _Play?" she asked again, voice broken. "Big brother, play?"_

 _Breath catching, heart hammering frantically, Ed looked up. His golden eyes widened with horror as he saw her, or rather, what her father had made her into. A large white dog with a long, trailing mane of dark hair, eyes full of fear and innocent cluelessness._

" _N-Nina," he breathed, "Nina!" They were still in the snow, cold seeping into Ed's knees. It crawled up his skin, filling him with an icy feeling._

" _Don't you see, Ed? We're the same!" Shou's voice rang out from behind him. The golden-haired alchemist spun around immediately._

" _No, we're not, you bastard!" Ed raced towards him, fury pushing him quickly across the snow. He swung his fist up, preparing to punch him._

 _The man fell down in a burst of blood, sprawled out in a blossom of red. Thunder crashed, and Nina/Alexander appeared next to Shou, white fur stained a horrid rust-crimson color. Ed pulled in a sharp, shaky breath. "Dammit! Dammit!"_

" _Ed!" At first he didn't recognize the voice. "Ed! Ed! Ed, wake-"_

His eyes snapped open. "-up!" James was leaning over him, hands on his shoulders. "You okay, mate? You were shouting in your sleep…"

"I was?" Ed asked blearily, "Huh."

"Hey, we never got to play Quidditch yesterday. Wanna try it out during lunch?"

Ed turned his head towards him, hand on his forehead. "Why not?" Then he shrugged and stood up.

Spurred on by a spurt of reckless curiosity, James rushed forward to catch up to the golden-haired teen. "Hey, Ed, why do you wear those gloves?"

* * *

 **Questions are being asked, nightmares are being had, oh, let the games begin!**

 **Thank you all for reading, and thanks to those who followed, favorited, and reviewed!**

 **Ciao!**


	4. 4

**Ooh, chapter four, what a surprise! Hope you enjoy!**

 **Thank you to everyone who followed, reviewed, and favorited!**

* * *

"Hey, Ed, why do you wear those gloves?"

Ed froze.

" _I am what you call the world. Or perhaps the Universe, or perhaps God, or perhaps Truth, or perhaps all, or perhaps one, and I am also you."_

"Why do you want to know?" Ed asked, turning around slowly, eyes bright in the dimly illuminated dorm.

"I- I'm just curious," said James hesitantly, hearing the guarded tone in Ed's voice, "I've only known you for four days, but you've never once taken off your gloves. I guess I was just kind of...well, I was wondering about it."

The golden-eyed Gryffindor looked at James's open and slightly abashed face.

" _Take my leg! Take my arm! Take my heart! Just give me back my brother, he's all I have left!"_

"It's personal," he said. Dammit! Only a few days into his mission and he was already dredging up memories that he'd rather not have interfering with this.

"Personal?" James echoed, then his eyes widened and he blushed a little. "Sorry!" Ed wondered what James thought 'Personal' meant.

The blonde looked at him wearily, then sighed. "Never mind." He turned around and left the dorm and a rather embarrassed-looking James.

. . .

"I'm a bloody fool," moaned James, slumping down next to his friends at the Gryffindor table, "I went and asked Ed about the gloves! I'm such a bloody IDIOT!"

Peter chuckled nervously. "It c-can't have be-been that bad, c-can it?"

Sighing, Sirius looked down the table to where Ed was sitting, alone, immersed in a thick book. He'd stormed in, boots clomping heavily on the floor. He was still in that strange clothing - Sirius wondered for the millionth time why the professors hadn't reprimanded him for that. It must have had something to do with the fragile ties between Amestris - wherever in Merlin's name that was - and the Wizarding community.

Honestly, Sirius wasn't sure how he felt about the golden-haired enigma. Ed was very likable. He was funny, pugnacious (when it came to his height, Sirius noticed), and seemed very open. Unless you asked him about his past. Then he clammed up.

And then there was the fact that the short fifteen-year-old was in the military. It unnerved Sirius, stirring up memories of his family's affinity for the Death Eaters, a veritable army themselves. Would he end up there? Would Regulus?

"Sirius! Sirius?" James's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "D'you think Ed's still going to play Quidditch with us, or did I botch the whole thing?" His dark-haired friend's green eyes were fixed on the blonde, and he was leaning his cheek on his hand, pushing his glasses up lopsidedly.

"You're quite focused on this," Sirius drawled, working out the knots in a piece of string. He'd picked up the habit of knotting and then unknotting a thick piece of string a while back, because it gave his hands something to do. "Why is it so important that Ed plays Quidditch?"

Tearing his worried gaze from Ed, the Chaser gave Sirius an appalled look. "Because he looks like he'd be good at it. And if he's good at it, he'll join the team. If he joins the team, I'm bound to spend more time with him and so I shall unravel his secrets!" James paused and pouted, "You didn't stay long. And you were brilliant, too! It'd be nice to have better players."

The dog-Animagus snorted and smirked. "It got boring."

Remus, who'd been silently watching their exchange, smiled.

"I'm going to go ask him," announced James, determination blazing in his eyes. Standing up, he strode over to the reclusive blonde. "Will you come at lunch? For Quidditch, I mean." He stood in a determined pose; hands balled into loose fists and set against his hips, chin up, challenging the blonde to turn him down.

Sirius thought that was a smidge overkill, but that was James for you.

"I already said I would, didn't I?" Ed replied blandly, still reading. James stood there, and they remained that way a tad too long, the silence growing awkward. Finally, the little antenna-like bit of hair sticking up on Ed's head twitched and the blonde turned slowly. "What?"

Sirius chuckled as he watched James's face change as the dark-haired Chaser realized that he did not, in fact, have a reason to continue standing there. "Er, well, you're sure you're coming?"

Voice tinged with irritation, Ed said, "I'm coming, but maybe I won't if you keep asking."

James's air of determination melted away and he nodded. Then he walked back to the Marauders. "That went well," he sighed, slumping down into his seat.

. . .

"Very well! Oh, and excellent, as expected, Edward!" Slughorn boomed, peering into Ed's cauldron through the haze that filled the room. For some reason it was always hazy in the Potions classroom, and it creeped Ed out.

A Hufflepuff girl sat next to him, shooting him queer glances once in a while, which also weirded him out. Remus and Peter sat in front of them. Thinking about them brought up another topic in Ed's mind. Nicknames. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, Wormtail. He'd asked about that previously, but had gone to sleep before he'd gotten an answer. Then again, it had sounded like a rhetorical question. What made people consider something a rhetorical question? How did the asker of the question communicate to the receiver(s) whether or not it was a rhetorical question?

With a start, Ed realized his mind had been wandering, and he returned to the present. Slughorn had returned to the front of the room, and was now sweeping his gaze over the students. When it landed on Ed, the large man gave a small smile. The uncertain feelings he seemed to have had towards Ed when they had first met were gone now.

Lazily, the blonde studied the other teenagers in the classroom. It was Double Potions today, with the Hufflepuffs. The girl next to him leaned over to another girl, across the aisle from them, and whispered something. Both of them glanced at Ed, and then broke out into fits of silent laughter. Confused and faintly irked, Ed paid them no heed and looked around. Peter and Remus were bent dutifully over their cauldrons, as was the majority of the class.

There was a small number of people who were messing about; flicking scraps of parchment at each other, snickering at murmured jokes and casting malicious glances around the room. One of them - a Hufflepuff - glanced over at Ed - as so many have been doing this class - and nudged one of their friends.

After class ended, Slughorn pulled Ed aside. "Edward-" he began in a jovial tone (his tone was often jovial, wasn't it?) before Ed cut him off. "Please call me Ed, sir." Thank Truth his years in the military had taught him _some_ manners.

"Ah, yes, Ed," the Potions professor started again, "you are free next Wednesday evening, aren't you?" He peered at the (cough, cough, short!) blonde expectantly.

"Yeah," he replied, "Why?" Ed shifted into a slightly defensive pose, arms loosely crossed and legs positioned in a strong stance.

"Oh, nothing much, I'm simply hosting a dinner in my office with some students. You'll come?"

"Yeah, sure." Ed relaxed and turned on his heel, swinging his bag up over his shoulder.

Outside of the classroom, the two Hufflepuffs from earlier were waiting, uninviting smirks on their faces. "What the hell do you want?" Ed asked, eyes narrowing in hostility.

Their smirks widened, and one of them - a brunet with slanted eyes and a smattering of freckles across his nose - leaned in a bit. "Oh, rude, are we?" He had a low, twangy voice.

Ed sighed. "What do you want?"

The other one - this one with wavy hair and a long face - let out a little, high-pitched laugh. "Gonna go cryin' to yer mum? What're you, five?" It was nearly completely unrelated, and it pissed Ed off.

Sighing yet again, to contain his rising ire, Ed slowly raised a clenched fist until it was eye-level with the shorter of the two, the palm facing them. The blonde was thoroughly irritated now.

"Oi, shorty here thinks 'e can pick a fight wit' his fists!" The long-faced boy jeered, raising his wand. "Don't he know 'e can use magic? What a bloody idjit!" He pulled in a breath, preparing to curse Ed, who looked an easy target.

Growling, Ed slammed his flesh hand, palm-first (the one he had raised earlier) into the boy's face, breaking his nose and sending him crashing down into the floor. Moving quickly, the golden-haired alchemist swung a leg out and caught the other Hufflepuff's shins, tripping him over. It probably wasn't a good move to pick a fight, diplomacy-wise, but dammit, they pissed him off! Besides, they 'attacked' first. It was self-defense. Kind of.

Ed pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to be in some deep shit with Mustang - not that he cared - and Winry - who was quite formidable with a wrench. He groaned at the thought of it, because although she was back in Amestris, the lighter-haired blonde was also skilled with her words when she wanted to be, and her letters could bite! Not literally, thank Truth. At least she wasn't there in person, and he planned to keep it that way.

. . .

"You did WHAT?" A silence fell over the Great Hall. Roy Mustang had pushed back his chair with a loud screeching sound, and slammed his hands down on the solid wood of the table. Ed stood before him, looking rather sheepish.

"What's he on about?" Sirius asked through a mouthful of cereal. It was lunch, but somehow he'd managed to get cereal. It was probably due to the Marauders' frequent visits to the kitchens when they were supposed to be in bed or class. The house-elves had become quite fond of the four pranksters. Speaking of pranks, they hadn't done any yet, and this many days (three) into the school year, it wasn't that unusual, but they were bound to do something soon.

"D'you reckon he's mad that Slughorn's practically drooling over Ed?" James replied.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Remus, "if they're here on a diplomatic mission, he'd be pleased. It's got to be something else."

Just then, the doors opened and two Hufflepuffs slunk in. One of them had a hand held to his nose, the other rubbing his back, and the other limping slightly. Madam Pomfrey had fixed them up well enough, but the pain still lingered.

"Did they get beaten up? By wh-" Remus saw them glaring at the teacher's table, and followed their gaze to Ed, "Oh. That's what Colonel Mustang was angry about."

"What d'you mean?" Sirius asked. As keen as he could be at some moments, this was not one of them.

"Ed beat them up," Remus replied, before being distracted by a bowl of dried fruit slices. They were probably his favorite food, and after he'd made it known to the house-elves, they usually placed it somewhere along the table.

"B-beat them up?" stuttered Peter. He instantly paled and dropped his fork with a clatter. The mousy Gryffindor had never had much of a stomach for fights. He was quite cowardly, actually, so how he got into Gryffindor house was a bit of a mystery. But the Sorting Hat had chosen; there must have been some reason. The nervous teen's eyes darted towards the blonde who was in the middle of a heated, hushed argument with Colonel Mustang.

Finally the Colonel threw his hands up into the air with an expression of exasperation. Ed visibly relaxed and walked away. He strolled past the two Hufflepuffs, who were still been standing by the doors. They shot him glares as he went by, and he returned the look with double the intensity, though it was more annoyance than hatred.

. . .

"Ed! You're here!" James called in relief. He was definitely the one who talked to Ed the most; Sirius felt uneasy around the soldier, Remus still felt suspicious about all of the things that he didn't know about Ed (a bit contradictory, if you think about it), and Peter was, well, Peter.

"Padfoot doesn't play on the team, but he's agreed to play with us later, as well as a few other blokes." He threw a broom at Ed, who caught it deftly.

Ed eyed the broom dubiously, then flicked his eyes up to James expectantly.

"Alright, put the broom down next to you, right side." Ed did so. "Great, now hold your hand over it and say, 'Up!'. Got it?"

"Up!" Nothing. "Up!" Again, nothing. "Up, dammit, up!" Then his golden eyes lit up. Ed stepped over the room and held his left hand out over the broom. "Up!" In a smooth movement, the broom was in his hand.

James rubbed his chin, then ran his hand through his hair. "Well, that's odd, but it works." He shrugged. "Okay, now mount like this." He demonstrated on his own broom, a Silver Arrow. "These beauties are pretty rare these days, but if you're good I might be able to get you one. Now, push gently off the ground, and lean to steer."

Ed pressed his feet into the ground, his left foot leaving an unusually deep imprint in the dirt. About 17 feet off the ground, he suddenly veered. The blonde had been leaning forward heavily, and he fell to the right, landing with a thud and a breaking noise.

"Oi, Ed, you alright?" James called. "We've got to get you to the hospital wing. That sounded nasty." He helped the blonde up, noting with surprise how heavy the small teen was.

. . .

"Can you take your shirt off?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "James told me he heard a concerning sound when you landed on your arm.

Ed glanced irritatedly at the dark-haired teen. "Can he leave? There's something I don't want him to see."

Nodding, Madam Pomfrey said, "Of course, dearie. James," she said, turning to the Chaser, "would you mind?"

"Er, sure," he replied, and left the room.

After making sure the door was locked, Ed pulled off his red jacket, gloves. and black overshirt. He stood there in his black tank top, letting the medic witch ogle at his metal arm.

"A prosthetic?" she gasped, hands going to her mouth, "How'd it happen? If you don't mind, that is."

"Nah, it's fine. I lost it in a military raid on my town when I was eleven, nearly four and a half years ago. Amestris is very advanced in prosthetics, so I got these." He groaned. "You're going to have to get my mechanic." She gasped again, heart bleeding for the poor dear.

Taking a look at his steel arm, which was very obviously broken, she nodded seriously, eyes still shining with sympathy. "I'll speak to Dumbledore about it."

. . .

"I've spent some time in the library," yawned Remus, "and I've found no record of Amestris...except for in the newest volume of _Wizarding History: Decades_. Apparently, two years ago Amestris and the surrounding countries, which are Creta, Aerugo, Drachma, and Xing, came out of their centuries-long isolation and began establishing political bonds with the developed countries. They're quite developed themselves, but all of those countries are still a total mystery. So I really couldn't find anything on Amestris, besides its geographical location."

He rubbed his eyes and then stretched. "Oh, and before I forget, I also researched the Philosopher's Stone. I found a _lot_ more on that. It's made through alchemy, and it's one of the things that alchemy's most well known for. I wonder why Colonel Mustang didn't mention it in class, but then again, he'd hardly any time to even explain alchemy. We can ask him about it in class tomorrow. It can give you eternal life...there was a lot about an elixir…" He yawned again. "I really need sleep."

"Nevermind that!" James exploded. "Sorry about that, Moony. But he's no good! He can't even fly! His form's perfect, but it's like he's immensely imbalanced. He's too heavy for his size, too! He's got a broken arm, too, but when Madam Pomfrey asked to take a look at it, he made me leave. There's something that he didn't want me too see!" He gasped. "Is he a Death Eater?"

Sirius smacked him upside the head. "Idiot! Why would he let Madam Pomfrey see his Mark, then?"

"Oh," James said.

Remus narrowed his eyes. More mysteries kept on adding to his mental list of Edward Elric's secrets. But he was too tired to think about it. He needed sleep.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **See y'all later!**


	5. 5

**And I present to you, chapter five! Enjoy!**

 **Thank you, everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed!**

* * *

It was a few days before Winry arrived, during which life progressed as normal. If you could call life at Hogwarts and Ed put together 'normal'. The golden-haired alchemist had asked Dumbledore why she couldn't come earlier; wizards could do that weird teleporting thing after all (that still pissed Ed off; it completely disregarded science, but then again, _everything_ pissed Ed off with these damn wizards and their magic). Dumbledore had explained that she would need time to adjust to the idea of magic (Ed scoffed and said "And I didn't?").

So by the day that Winry finally arrived, Ed was very impatient. He'd been spending the past few days with his arm in a sling, which was irritating. It restricted his movement and made it so that he couldn't perform alchemy.

He had been eating breakfast, in a very stormy mood, when Winry walked in. She wasn't yelling or throwing wrenches as he'd expected, thank Truth. The mechanic had entered quietly, almost unnoticeably, and sat down next to him. "Ed," she said, a dangerous undertone riding in her voice, "How are you? I received the call and came as soon as I could!"

Ed flinched. He knew her well and when she used that polite voice...he was in for it later.

"Heh...hi, Winry!" He tried, and failed, to smile cheerfully, resulting in a grimace.

Just then, the Marauders sat down around the two blonde Amestrians. "Who's this, Ed?" Remus asked, looking curiously at Winry.

"This is Winry, my...childhood friend," he replied, glancing uneasily at the pleasantly smiling mechanic.

"Hi!" she said, waving a bit. "Who are they?" Winry whispered in an aside to Ed.

Relaxing a bit, he explained. "These are the guys I share my dorm with. Peter, James, Sirius, and Remus," he pointed to each in turn.

Winry nodded at each of them. "Nice to meet you all!" Then she turned her attention to the hall, looking around eagerly. "Wow! This is amazing! At first I thought that the old man was off his rocker, but I don't need any more proof now!" Turning to Ed, she added, "I was in Rush Valley when they came to get me, so Granny doesn't know. Can you imagine her reaction?"

Ed visibly flinched. "It would be...loud. Anyways, how long are you staying, Winry?"

"I don't know...a few days? Maybe longer, this place is so fascinating!"

It was then that James leapt up, shouting, "Merlin! We've got to get to Transfiguration!" It was true; the hall was nearly deserted, the last few students heading for the doors.

"See you, Winry," Ed said, putting on a glum expression, "I've got to go to this class or I get court-martialed." He didn't sound excited in the least.

. . .

Winry watched him go, worried about his less-than-enthusiastic attitude about his next class. The alchemist was _always_ happy to learn new information, alchemy-related or not. She shook her head, blonde ponytail swishing across her shoulders. Winry had things to do, too.

Pulling out a worn map, she studied it and began to walk out of the hall, too.

Within a few minutes, Winry was standing in front of what she assumed was the alchemy classroom. Peeking through the yellowed windows, she saw that it was empty. She pushed the door open tentatively, then called, "Mustang?"

Winry heard footsteps, then a creaky door hidden somewhere behind the mess of bookshelves and miscellaneous objects opened. Another moment later and the Colonel appeared, his hands full of crumpled papers.

"Rockbell. You're here," he remarked blandly, dropping the papers on his already haphazard desk.

"Er, yeah," said Winry, "So what did we need to talk about? I don't think I need to know anything; I'm just here to fix that idiot's arm." She balled her fists and her expression turned ominous.

Roy flinched. He did not want to be in Ed's shoes.

"This is a diplomatic mission, Rockbell, so you can't reveal anything - anything! - about Amestris. Only the Ministry needs to know any details, and minimal ones at best. Nothing about automail, and no hitting Fullmetal with a wrench. Understood?"

Winry sighed. She had _really_ wanted to hit the idiot. She sighed. "I understand. By the way, when am I going back home? I have a lot of customers waiting."

Mustang turned to face the window, hands clasped behind his back. "Next week, by the latest. You'll be fixing Fullmetal's arm soon, right?"

Winry smiled and tipped her head to the side. "Yup. That idiot can never keep his arm from breaking, which pisses me off, but it keeps Granny and me in business." They fell into a silence. Winry broke it a short while later, saying, "Can I go now?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mustang replied, "Yes. I have those goddamn papers to grade. I'm not cut out to be a teacher."

Winry chuckled and left.

. . .

After all the classes had ended, Ed skipped dinner (he was not happy about that) and followed Winry to the hospital wing. She locked the door and motioned for him to take his sling off, looking ready to hit him once she saw the damage he had invariably done to it. He took the sling off, and rolled up his sleeve. There was a thudding noise, and Ed whipped around.

Winry sighed (again). It was only one of the shutters hitting the castle wall after a particularly strong gust of wind. "Ed, we're not in Amestris. Take it easy. Now, I have to fix your automail. How did you break it this time?"

"Fell off a broom," he told her.

She paused, looking up from her thorough inspection of Ed's arm. "What?" Her tone was flat, and Ed could hardly tell whether she was asking a question or not. He chuckled rather embarrassedly, scratching the back of his head.

"Long story, really. There's this wizarding sport where there are teams who ride on flying brooms and score goals, or something. I don't remember. James, the hyper one with the glasses, wanted me to try it out, but my automail caused an imbalance and gravity did the rest. Speaking of gravity, flying brooms are impossible. Not even alchemy can do that. Dammit, these bastards are breaking science! The only way I can see how flying brooms could work, even in theory, is-"

"Ed, you're rambling. Your arm looks fine; it's only a small break. I won't even have to take your arm off." She sighed in relief, "You're lucky it wasn't too big, although you couldn't move your arm anyways. I'm surprised it's not worse."

Expecting a response, Winry looked up questioningly when she received no answer. "Ed?"

He was staring at her. Suddenly he reached out his flesh hand and poked her in the cheek. "Who are you and what have you done with Winry?"

She slapped him and pouted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not mad," he said, eyes still searching her face, "You're always mad when I break my automail." He squinted and leaned in.

Blushing slightly, Winry leaned back. "I'm not mad because it's not that bad a break. It's an easy fix."

Ed hummed, and the mechanic went back to tinkering with his arm. About ten minutes later, she sat back and stretched. "It's done."

The alchemist stretched as well, bending his neck so that it cracked satisfyingly. "That was quick."

"I keep telling you, it wasn't a serious problem. Hey, do you want to go to the library? I haven't been yet." Winry stood up, brushed off her pants, and offered Ed one of her hands. He took it and stood up, not noticing the slight red dusting on her cheeks.

. . .

James let out a long breath as he slipped off the Invisibility Cloak. "What in Merlin's name was that? Ed has a - a metal arm!"

"I think it was called 'automail'," Remus supplied.

"Who cares what it's called?" Sirius burst out, "He's got a prosthetic far beyond any of the Wizarding or Muggle ones I've ever seen!" The black-haired teen looked stressed, confused, and curious.

"Now we know why he was wearing those gloves," said Remus, disregarding Sirius's comment, "But why was he hiding it from us? Is he embarrassed?"

Peter answered, stammering, "D-do you really think th-that Ed, of all pe-people would be embarrassed by a - a metal arm?" The mousy Gryffindor twisted his own hands nervously, looking at them uneasily, as if one of his own would suddenly become metal, too.

Feeling an inviting breeze, James leaned out of the very window that he'd knocked in surprise when Ed's 'automail' had been revealed, which reminded him of the conversation he'd heard shortly after.

" _Ed, we're not in Amestris. Take it easy."_

How dangerous was Amestris? Fifteen-year-olds with full metal arms, militaries that allowed teens to enroll, and the kind of place that made people jump at nearly any noise.

"What is it, Prongs?" Sirius asked, breaking off a conversation with Peter, which had left the timid, round-faced Gryffindor looking very puzzled. The dark-haired teen had seen the pensive look on James's face.

"I was wondering what kind of a place Amestris is. Ed and Prof- Colonel Mustang and Winry are all kind of odd." The messy-haired Chaser replied

"Sure, but d'you think that dinner's still going on? I'm starved."

James shot his friend a look. "You're asking about dinner when we know the way to the kitchens better than we know each other?"

Both dark-haired boys stared at one another for a moment before they started laughing.

. . .

The next morning, Ed was woken up by Winry. She stood over him, the sun shining with a silvery light behind her. "Wake up, Ed!" She shouted for the second time.

All the noise had fully awoken the other fifteen-year-olds. James asked sleepily, "Whassamatter…? 'S it time to put the goats...in the firs' years...dorm?"

"Winry? Why are you here?" Ed questioned, sitting up and running his hand through his messy, unbraided hair, unaware of Winry's sudden, slight blush. He blinked slowly and peered up at her.

"No reason. I felt like it," she replied, curling her left hand into a tight fist. "I want to see what your classes are like."

Behind her, Sirius wiggled his eyebrows at James and mouthed, 'She _likes_ him!'.

James stifled a snicker. It was painfully obvious to all in the room, with the exception of Ed himself.

Ed's first class was Alchemy. He and Winry claimed seats next to each other, closer than Ed would have liked to the front, at Winry's insistence.

A bleary-eyed Mustang called the class to attention. He was plainly sleep-deprived, and as he began talking about the elements, he evidently was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, with Winry holding Ed back from punching anyone or anything he found profoundly irritating.

It was shortly before dinner that even the (scary) blonde's sway over Ed had no pull. Severus approached their small group (the Marauders and the teenage Amestrians) and sneered. In the oily yellow light cast by the numerous candles and lanterns, his hair looked especially greasy. "Well, if it isn't the midget and his girlfriend! I hear you can't do magic...how pitifu-!"

Ed had him by the collar of his robes. "I'M NOT FUCKING MICROSCOPIC, BASTARD!"

Severus visibly cringed.

"Ed," Winry started, rising from her chair.

"And she's _not_ my girlfriend!"

Winry turned red. "Yeah! I'm not! No way!"

James bit down a chuckle.

Gulping, Severus tried to fix his slipping leer back onto his face. "You don't want to hit me. Aren't you here on a diplomatic mission?"

Ed stiffened. Then he slowly relaxed his grip on the Slytherin's shirtfront. "Damn court martial," he muttered, glaring piercingly at Severus. "Come near me or Winry again and I'll break your face. Might fix your nose, though."

Winry sighed as the hook-nosed Slytherin slunk away. Ed's animosity was a bit much, so he must've sensed something he really disliked about the sallow-skinned boy. She reached for her wrench, then remembered that she'd left it in her toolkit, back in her room. Winry turned her gaze to Ed's face. His stunningly golden eyes were still burning with anger, his mouth set in a frown.

"Dammit, I need to beat someone up," he growled, kicking his left foot against a chair.

"Hey, mate, you alright? We all hate 'im too, so we get it," James said, leaning back in his chair and stretching luxuriously. "One day I'd like to pull a really impressive prank on him. I can already see his face turning a spectacular bruise-purple."

Remus chuckled. The dusty-brown-haired Gryffindor did not think himself particularly malicious, but in Severus's case, he was willing to prank amazingly. "Me too."

"Can I get in on it, too?" Ed asked, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin.

Winry sighed again. "Ed! You're on a diplomatic mission! Imagine what Al would say!" She hated to be a downer, but it was not worth it for Ed to risk his military position, as much as she disapproved of _that_ , as well.

"He'd say yes!" said Ed.

The mechanic shot him a doubtful look. "Whatever. I probably can't stop you. I won't tell Mustang." She had pushed aside the feeling that it would end very badly. It would only be one prank, anyway. She had no doubt that they could do it. It was the kind of people they were.

"Well then," Sirius said, "what do you say we make you a Marauder? You'll need a nickname, of course. How about what the Colonel calls you? Fullmetal?"

"Hell yeah!" Ed said, a new kind of fire lighting up his gold eyes.

"Great! Now, any ideas?" James announced, running a hand through his black hair.

 _This is not going to end well_ , thought Winry.

* * *

 **No, it might not end well. Please review, and thanks for reading!**

 **I bid you adieu!**


	6. 6

**Hey-o! I am so sorry that I haven't updated as soon as I promised I would, but the combination of anime and laziness is a powerful one.**

 **This chapter is one of my shorter ones, but I'm expecting to make up for it in the next chapter. This may also be a terrible chapter. I have no idea. I'm terrible at self-judging.**

 **Thank you to the surprising amount of people who reviewed, followed (Holy crap! This story had 133 follows!) and favorited this story and me (I was delighted, and still am!). I'd like to give a shout out to goodgirl275 for her helpful review. It really helped me decide how to move the story along.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

* * *

"This was a terrible idea!" yelled Ed, barrelling through Hogwarts.

"Shut it!" responded James, eyes wide with panicked excitement, "It was fun until Filth caught us!"

"Filth? You mean the creep with the cat?" Ed asked, "Hey, where are we going?"

Glancing hurriedly around, the Chaser shouted back, "I don't bloody know! Away!"

"Sounds good to me!" Ed replied, swerving to avoid a wall. Trying to steady his pace, he struggled to undo his already-falling-apart-braid, then succeeded in getting his hair up into a messy ponytail. Winry and Mustang would kill him for this.

He hadn't intended to spend his night running like hell, no, he'd just gone along with the Marauders to pull a prank. But then Filth - whatever his name was - showed up with that cat that even Al couldn't love, and, well, it went downhill from there. Looking over at his accomplice, Ed noticed that James was fumbling with something in his pockets. "What are you doing?" he asked, wheezing slightly.

"I have…a way...out of this...bloody...mess!" gasped James, "Just..give….me a...moment..and...there!" With a flourish, he pulled out a large, silvery piece of cloth.

"How the hell's that gonna help, dammit?" questioned Ed, turning slightly to look harder at James, and, as a result, tripping. "Oh, shit!"

James dropped down beside him, draping the silvery fabric over them both. "Keep quiet!" he whispered harshly.

"The hell? Is he just gonna ignore the suspicious-looking _blanket_ on the damn floor! Use your goddamn magic or something!" Ed whispered back, coppery voice rough with panic. He wasn't at all comfortable; the ground was cold and rough and he had fallen in such a way that he was angled awkwardly. It was easily remedied, but due to the way that the blanket had fallen across him, moving it without revealing a limb was impossible, and for some unfathomable reason, Ed felt that venturing from beneath the blanket was a suicidal act.

"He won't see the blanket, you git, it's bloody invisible!" James muttered, frowning.

Ed stared at him for a moment, then lightly hit his head on the floor, mumbling, "Dammit, you wizards…I really shouldn't be surprised anymore…"

Just then they heard muttering ('It took that old man that long to catch up?' thought Ed, 'Why were we running?'). "Maybe I can get permission to bring back some of the better punishments...hanging them by their toenails...ah, the shackles!" He broke into painful-sounding chuckles, stopping at periods to wheeze.

Frozen, the two Gryffindors waited, breaths bated, for him to pass. It felt like an eternity, full of the sound of their rapidly hammering hearts and racing thoughts, until Filch's footsteps faded away.

. . .

Back in the common room, the other Marauders scrambled eagerly out of their seats when they heard the Fat Lady grumbling as she let someone in. They were met with the sight of James and Ed, hair in disarray, eyes bright with the energy that you get when you have been running dangerously on the paper-thin line between adventure and disaster.

"What in Merlin's name took you so long?" Sirius asked, frowning.

"Filth nearly caught us. You're lucky we took the pain of getting his attention so you could get away easily." James retorted, grinning a little. He was still full of adrenaline, in too good of a mood to let anything dampen his soaring spirits.

Lupin opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by laughter, the throaty, contagious kind. It was Ed, doubled over, clutching his stomach. A few, admittedly awkward, seconds later, and James joined in, followed closely by the rest.

It was only when Lily, whose dorm was only one flight of stairs above the common room, came down that they stopped. Her green eyes glinted murderously as she began to reprimand them (especially James, who winced every time she looked at him) for being loud and idiotic.

Eventually Lily finished lecturing them, and they retreated to their dorm room like whipped dogs. As soon as they were safely out of earshot, James said, "It was worth it, though."

. . .

The next morning, a bright Saturday full of the promise of laziness, they reaped what they had sown. Sure, seeing Filch glare menacingly at them, muttering threats under his breath, was a bit off-putting, but seeing the posters plastered all over the school made up for it. Each poster had a picture of Snape on it, magically enhanced to burst into song or make embarrassing comments and vulgar noises.

However, Ed's glee was cut short when Winry came up to him, smiling sweetly. "Ed," said Winry, "This looks awfully suspicious. And I hear there were some students out of bed last night…"

Ed turned ten shades paler. Attempting to smile innocently, he laughed. "W-why the hell would I do something like that…?" Lifting his left hand to the back of his neck, he slid his gaze to the left - and snickered. Following his line of sight, Winry had to choke back a giggle; it was a poster depicting Snape, enchanted so that every few seconds, he shifted into a suggestive pose. She masked her amusement - Snape had emitted a particularly unpleasant air - with a look of annoyance. "Ed," Winry growled, crossing her arms and tilting her head back slightly so that her hair fell away from her, "Give me a straight answer. Did you have something to do with this?"

Sighing, he turned his liquid gold eyes on her. "Yeah." His gaze sharpened. "Wait- what's this - are you - holy hell - you're trying not to laugh!"

Reddening, Winry balled her hands at her sides. "I- I'm not! Shut up!"

"Come on! You are!" Ed laughed, a genuine laugh that resonated through the hallway.

"Well, maybe it is kind of funny," admitted Winry, scowling to conceal her embarrassment, "But that was still really stupid, Ed!"

"I guess," he muttered, then his eyes widened. "Oh! Winry, I gotta go to the library and look something up, see you, bye!" Ed dashed away, attracting stares as he sped past puzzled students.

Watching as the last of his scarlet coat disappeared around the corner, Winry smiled a small, fond smile and shook her head. "Same as always." Casting one last amused look at the poster, where Snape was currently saluting suggestively, she murmured, "Magic, huh? Wow...I wish…"

. . .

Ed was missing all of that day, until he showed up at dinner. The Great Hall was unusually silent, the air heavy, like the restless calm before a storm. "What's going on?" Ed asked, leaning over towards Remus.

"You haven't heard? It's...Voldemort. He attacked, for the first time since last year." Remus replied, eyes roaming the Hall.

"Voldemort?" he questioned.

"A new up-and-coming dark wizard," explained Sirius, eyes stormy, "He wants to create a world where purebloods are superior, making Muggles and half-bloods and muggle-borns into slaves. He's vile." His voice was loaded with bitterness, his face a mask of contempt. "Of course, my parents simply adore him already."

"He already has a small following, but it's big enough, and their ranks keep growing. They're spreading terror, targeting anyone not in their ranks." Remus added, suddenly looking very tired "They have wizards, giants, werewolves...it's likely that a war will break out soon."

Ed sat back and absorbed the new information. "Dammit, another war. Why is there always conflict?"

"That's right," said Remus, "You're a soldier, Ed. I'd nearly forgotten. But you haven't been in any wars, have you?"

Ed leaned back, hooking his hands behind his head. "Yeah, I haven't fought in any wars, but I've been in enough battles. It's never pretty, though, whether it's a war or not." He sighed, then stretched and rested his head on the table. "Wake me up when there's food."

. . .

"Are we gonna ask him about it or not?"

James sighed, running a hand through his hair, messing it up further. "I dunno. What if he flips out? Remember what happens when someone calls him-" he leaned in and lowered his voice, as if Ed could hear him, "-short?"

"Well, that aside, when are we gonna sneak into the Forbidden Forest? I thought we were making it an annual event." said Sirius, stretching out luxuriously along a lounge chair.

The Marauders were currently gathered in the Room of Requirement, discussing Ed and mischief. James was sprawled across a thick carpet, playing with a swiped Snitch; Remus was adding the finishing touches to an essay about planet alignment that was due for Astronomy; Sirius was lounging purposelessly; and Peter was lying on a couch, flipping through a book.

"Let's take Ed with us," said James, eyes lighting up as an idea came to him.

The other three paused and looked oddly at him. Sirius drawled, "Why would we do that?" Furrowing his brow, James opened his mouth, preparing to say something, then closed it, opened it again, closed it, and finally said, "So we can ask him about his arm. Think about it. He'd need to stick with us, because he doesn't know the way around. See? Perfect opportunity."

"Bloody hell, mate, you actually sounded smart. Wait - don't tell me - imposter!" Remus exclaimed, abandoning his essay to poke James. "Where's James? What did you do with him?"

"C-calm down, Moony. I th-think it's too late f-for that now. J-james is pro-probably dead." Peter said, putting a hand on Remus' shoulder.

"Shove off," said James, pushing the two away. "I'm James!"

"Prove it!"

"Remember that time when we painted the entire third floor purple? And then McGonagall caught us, and I accidentally turned her purple, too? And then we were in detention and we got into a fight and we all ended up with cat ears?" James pleaded, faking tears. "See? It's me!"

Placated, Remus and Peter relented. "Fine. We believe you."

"Great!" James said, clapping his hands together, "Let's go ask Ed if he wants to come with us to the forest."

. . .

"How interesting. Amestris? Bring the boy to me." A high, spine-chilling voice said.

"Yes, Dark Lord."

* * *

 **So I bothered to do some research for this, and now I feel really accomplished. Guess who's entering the story?**

 **I apologize for any inaccuracies, OOC-ness, grammar mistakes, and the like.**

 **Please review!**

 **Au revoir!**


	7. 7

**And I am back! Sorry I made y'all wait so long. I was just in London for a while and I had the most amazing time. There was a lot of fandom stuff involved!**

 **I give my gratitude to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed. I love logging into my e-mail and seeing the notices from !**

 **So, I spent more time on this chapter than others, and I think the story's going alright, but who knows. I hope you all enjoy!**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor FMA.)**

* * *

Looking back on it, Remus had no idea how he'd convinced Ed to accompany them on their excursion to the Forbidden Forest. All he remembered was that at first the blonde had been very unreceptive to the idea at first, and now…

"This brings back memories," the blonde mused, holding one hand out to brush nearby greenery.

"How in Merlin's name does _this_ bring back memories?" James asked, turning to look at Ed, face washed blue in the light from his wand. His eyebrows were raised quizzically.

Ed sighed and looked up at the sky. The stars were cold and clear that night; beautiful. "It brings back memories of when my brother and I tried to convince my teacher to let me become her student. We succeeded, obviously, but it was hell. We spent one month alone on an uninhabited island." He let out a long breath. "I don't regret it at all."

A silence followed, loaded with surprise, then was broken by Sirius. "Mate, you had a very strange childhood."

"You think?" asked Ed. "So, what are we going to do out here?"

Remus exchanged a quick look with James, then drew in a deep breath and said, "We know about your metal arm. We don't know why you're keeping it hidden, how it's so impossibly advanced, and as much as we want to know, we won't ask-" James coughed, "-but we wanted to let you know that we know."

"Oh," Ed replied, looking faintly surprised, "Thanks. How _did_ you find out, by the way? Wait, you know what? Don't you have that blanket that makes the wearer invisible?"

Sirius and James both chuckled nervously. "Well, er, that's a good point, Fullmetal," James said, holding up one hand, "and I really have no good reply to that, but, er, well…" He trailed off, then looked Ed in the eyes and put his hand on Ed's shoulder, "We're friends, so believe in me."

They all collapsed into laughter. As their mirth faded, Ed asked, "What now? Are we going back to Hog- Hogwar-" He exploded with laughter again.

"Are we going back to Hogwarts?" Sirius asked, then pressed a hand against his chest, over his heart, feigning offense. "Of course not! Who do you think we are, Fullmetal?"

Chatting excitedly, drunk on the assurance that they wouldn't be caught, and the camaraderie of good friends, they ventured further into the forest, somehow not getting attacked by the numerous dangerous beasts that lurked in the darkness.

. . .

"'E's here, just as the Dark Lord said 'e'd be."

"He's a god, Rockwell. Don't doubt the Dark Lord."

"Let's move. He's close."

Three shadowy figures moved through the night like wraiths, soundless. Within moments the cold luminescence of wandlight filtered through the trees, and the figures sped up. Each crouching behind a tree, they peered at the source. Five teenaged boys, excited and bright-eyed, strode confidently through the trees. It was pure idiocy to walk so carelessly through a forest filled with unspeakable creatures, but the three watchers didn't care.

Wordlessly, they sent spells with rapid speed into the group of teens, darting out to examine the faces of the unconscious boys.

"Which one?"

"The one with golden hair - yes, that's him, Lackley, bind him. The Dark Lord will be very pleased. Where's the note?"

"'Ere it is. 'Onestly, I think it's right stupid to leave a note. What good's it goin' to do?"

"Shut it, you bloody fool! Don't question our _god_!"

"Only you think 'e's a god, Selwyn."

"I'm not wrong! You'll see, one day you'll pay in blood for your heresy."

"Shut it! Selwyn! Rockwell! Let's go!"

With a _crack!_ The shadowy figures and Ed were gone.

. . .

"Wake up, wake up! Ed's gone!" Sirius woke to James shaking him, looking extremely panicked. He sat up, looking around. He was sitting on the forest floor, Remus and Peter a short distance away, surveying their surroundings.

"Were we...knocked unconscious?" asked Sirius, rising shakily to his feet.

"Yeah, I reckon. But Ed...he's gone." James said, looking about anxiously. "They must have taken him and - what's that?"

Sirius had uncurled his hand and was looking curiously at the piece of parchment he'd found there. "I found this in my hand. They must have put it there. Oh Merlin - it isn't good."

"What?" James asked, leaning in worriedly. Sirius had gone pale.

"I-it says, 'We have your young Amestrian. You won't be having him back. The Dark Lord was very pleased to hear that there were Amestrians so close. Give his regards to Albus Dumbledore.'"

James went quiet, eyes wide and face chalky white. He ran a hand through his hair, drawing in a shuddering breath. "Bloody hell! Bloody hell, he's got Ed! What do we do?"

"We've got to tell Dumbledore," said Remus, voice shaking. "This is beyond us. We have to get back to Hogwarts, quick."

The other three murmuring agreement, they ran back through the forest towards Hogwarts. Panting and covered in scratches, the sight of the castle, hundreds of windows aglow with light from within, was a welcome one. Staggering the final stretch across the well-kept lawn was easier than their struggle through the wild forest, despite their being out of breath, and within minutes they pushed open the large doors that led them inside.

As they started to make their way to Dumbledore's office, a sinister meow made them stop dead in their tracks. A wheezing chortle made their hearts sink horribly. In front of them stood Argus Filch, a grubby-looking, greying-haired man.

"Look what we have here, Ms Norris. Students out of bed! And from the looks of it, they've been wandering about the Forbidden Forest!" Filch rasped happily, then turned his attention to the four panicked students, "You're coming with me."

He scooped up Ms Norris and began walking, eyeing the Marauders over his shoulder. Not resigned to their fate yet, burning with the panic of losing Ed to the clutches of the rising Dark Lord, they did not follow. James shouted, "We need to see Dumbledore! It's an emergency!"

"Sure it is, brats," he snapped, "You're not getting away this time."

"We need to see him! It's about Voldemort!" Peter yelled, forgetting his stutter.

Filch froze. "Voldemort?" He asked, hands shaking noticeably. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"Why would we lie about something so serious? Please, just let us see Dumbledore, then you can give us detention. We don't care," Remus pleaded, ignoring the others' looks of betrayal, "This is really important. Please. _Please._ "

"Fine," Filch muttered, convinced, and began to shuffle in the direction of Dumbledore's office. "But I caught you. You're not getting away again."

. . .

"I found the brats sneaking in from the Forbidden Forest, sir, and they said they needed to see you - something about Voldemort. I will be able to assign them detentions after, though?" Filch told Dumbledore, glaring balefully at the four Marauders. The silver-haired Headmaster was standing in front of his desk, hands clasped behind his back and a concerned expression on his face.

"I understand, Argus. We will speak further about the detentions at a later time." Turning to the boys, he asked, "What do you need to tell me about Voldemort?"

"He's got Ed, sir!" James burst, having waited far too long to say this than he felt was necessary - or safe. "We were in the Forest - yes - but then we were all hit by a Sleeping Spell and when we came to, Ed was gone and there was a note!"

"A note? May I see?" Dumbledore asked, descending from his desk to take the note from Sirius. After reading it, he looked up and said, "This is quite serious. Argus, please summon all members of staff - and find Winry Rockbell, as well."

. . .

Ed woke up to blurry grey-ness, darker shapes flitting at the corners of his eyes. Shaking his head, his vision cleared and he made out glossy black stone walls and white pillars, and numerous black-robed people scattered throughout the room. Trying to move, Ed found that he was tied quite securely to a high-backed chair.

"What the hell?" he asked, swivelling his head. One of the black-robed people, a tall platinum blonde man with a haughty expression, approached him. Leaning down so they could see eye-to-eye, he chuckled and said, "Welcome, Edward Elric. You will soon have the honor of meeting the Dark Lord personally, very soon-"

Just then, the door at the far end of the room swung open and a pale-skinned bald man entered, seeming to glide. As he came closer to Ed, the blonde saw that he had an inhumanly flat nose and snake-like red eyes. He was terrified; surrounded by people who obviously didn't have good intentions and could use magic, and he was tied very securely, with no magical ability. He couldn't use his alchemy or his fighting abilities now. Ed was powerless, and that scared him.

"This is the Amestrian?" the snake-like man asked, looking at Ed. "Good work, Selwyn, Rockwell, Lackley." Even his voice was vaguely snake-like, hissing and dangerous.

Three people bowed, murmuring gratitude.

"You're Voldemort, right?" Ed asked, fighting down his fear. The question earned him a backhanded blow across the cheek from the haughty-looking blonde. "You have no right to speak his name!" In retribution, Ed glared at him.

"Quiet, Abraxus. I'll forgive his mistake, for how could he know?"

Abraxus bowed and stepped away, and Voldemort moved closer.

"What do you want with me?" questioned Ed, dreading the answer, but he had to know.

"I'm pleased that you asked, Edward. I want your alchemy. With you in the ranks of my army, we are guaranteed to achieve our goal more swiftly. You would benefit as well. You could have so much power, Edward, and I can give it to you."

"Sorry, baldy, but I'm already a military dog. Find someone else." Ed smirked, but he could feel the irritation beginning to roll off of the Dark wizard.

"Are you sure? I can give you immeasurable power. Don't be so rash to decide." Voldemort said, watching him carefully.

"No." Ed replied firmly. "Never, you bastard."

"You will join us, Edward Elric, eventually. Abraxus, convince him. I will return in nine days." Voldemort said coldly, then he swept out of the room. The other black-robed wizards followed his lead and left, leaving Ed alone with the man.

"I would very much like to use the Imperius curse on you, but we need your knowledge," mused Abraxus, studying Ed pensively. "What would convince you? Perhaps just a little...pain! _Crucio!_ "

Pain ripped through Ed, worse than losing his arm and leg. Stubbornly determined not to show any weakness like fear or pain, he gritted his teeth against the scream that was building in his throat.

"Will you join our ranks? You will never have to feel like that again!" Abraxus asked, twirling his wand.

"Hell no!" Ed ground out, then kicked the man in the shins.

Looking faintly annoyed, Abraxus raised his wand again. " _Crucio!_ "

The pain - it hurt - so much - he had to make it stop - it _hurt_! This time, Ed groaned through his teeth, which were clamped together so tightly that some tiny, distracted part of his mind feared that they would shatter.

"I can make it stop." Abraxus told him, "If you agree to join us. Think of the glory! The power! Doesn't it _tempt_ you?"

"I said - hell no! No amount of pain will change that, crazy bastard!" Ed snapped, ignoring the aching of his teeth.

" _Crucio!_ "

It hurt - oh hell - it hurt so much - if only it would stop - please - he hurt so much -

"Before...you say...anything….let me tell you...no!" Ed gasped, trembling.

"I see…this isn't working. Tell me, Edward, what makes you afraid?"

Casting his gaze to the ceiling and sighing deeply, Ed let himself smirk as he said, "Your ugly mug makes me scared. I don't know how you can even look at a mirror!"

Abraxus slapped him again. He looked extremely annoyed. "How am I supposed to convince the boy?" he exclaimed to himself, "He's returning in nine days...torture won't do it...perhaps it is…" He turned to Ed, "What do you want in return? What tempts you more than immense power? Women? Money?"

Ed scoffed. "You're an idiot, Abraxus. What I want, you can't give me." He tore his gaze away from the ceiling when he heard footsteps and saw Abraxus leaving the room.

"Dammit...that hurt. Am I going to get out of this one, Al?" He strained once more against his bindings, to no avail. The ropes were probably magically enhanced.

. . .

"What do you mean, Ed's gone?" Winry asked, as soon as the words had escaped Dumbledore's mouth.

"What I mean, Miss Rockbell," he said gently, "is that Ed has been taken. By Voldemort."

"Voldemort?" she asked.

"A Dark wizard who is gaining power and followers. The Wizarding World is on the brink of a war."

"And he's got Ed?" Winry asked, turning pale.

Mustang queried, "How are we going to recover him?" He looked very worried, and kept rubbing his forefinger and thumb together.

Feeling horrid about the entire thing, the Marauders stayed at the back of the room, watching the goings-on with nervous alertness. "This is our fault," Sirius whispered, slumping against the wall. "We took him into the Forest. We're bloody fools."

"They would have got him anyhow, Padfoot," Remus murmured in reply, "Of course, that doesn't stop us from feeling awful. What d'you think they want him for?"

Peter responded, "I- I hope they bring h-him back soon." He was twisting his hands together.

They watched as the gathering of adults - all dressed in their pajamas - crowded closer together, most likely discussing a way to bring Ed back. Madam Pomfrey was dismissed briefly to escort the Marauders and Winry back to the Gryffindor dormitories, and although they did want to be there, to feel, in some small way, in control, they were tired and frazzled and the idea of a bed was heavenly.

. . .

It would be difficult - near impossible, actually - to bring Ed back. They had no idea where he was, how many Death Eaters there were where he was, _what_ was happening to him, if he was already-

"Isn't there some kind of spell or charm you can use to find him?" Colonel Mustang exclaimed at one point, pinching the bridge of his nose. Everyone was tired and concerned. Frankly, most of them envied the children their opportunity to return to bed. It was going to be a long night.

. . .

He had fallen asleep at some point after Abraxus left the room. However, even fleeing to the realm of dreams did not provide an escape from the thoughts haunting him.

Before him, far away but still distinguishable, were Al and Winry and the Marauders, surrounded by warm light. They had their arms outstretched, reaching for him. "I'm coming!" Ed called, stumbling forward through a low, dark fog. Ropes snapped out of the enroaching dark, stopping him, pulling him back. "No! Dammit! No!"

He was dragged fully into the darkness, unable to see anything now but the dark, terrifying shapes that lurked behind him, just within his field of vision. Ed was helpless, powerless, out of reach. "Help," he whispered. A rope snaked its way around his forehead and pulled his head roughly back and-

Struggling for breath, Ed woke up to see the face of a young man who looked eerily similar to Abraxus; his long silvery-blonde hair and pointed features. "You're the filth that the Dark Lord wants to join us?" he asked, sneering.

"Lucius!" a voice - Abraxus', of course - called, "Are you fully prepared?"

"Of course, father," Lucius said, striding away.

Ed, having regained his breath, asked, "Are you trying to convince me, too? Good luck."

* * *

 ***Holds breath* So, what did you think? Where do you think this could go? Please review. I am open to suggestions and criticism.**

 **To be frank, I'm kind of proud of this chapter. I don't know. Thank you all for reading!**

 **Au revoir!**


	8. 8

**Hahaha! I have returned! I am so, so sorry I haven't updated in over a month...!**

 **Thank you everyone who favorited and followed and reviewed! Some of the ideas that were suggested were really helpful to me!**

 **Without further ado, I present the eighth chapter of Golden Eyes.**

 **(Disclaimer: In case it's not obvious, I don't own FMA nor HP.)**

* * *

Edward Elric was bored. Mind-numbingly bored. Lucius was even worse at 'convincing' him than Abraxus, who Ed supposed was his father. He wondered why they were so hesitant to get serious trying to get him to join their side. It was laughable, really, the whole thing. What made them think that kidnapping and torture would convince him to use his alchemy for them? It wasn't very well thought out at all.

Sure, he had heard of methods used for brainwashing, but he doubted these high-and-mighty wizard nobles would stoop to such 'Muggle' methods. Honestly, the wizards' dependence on magic was idiotic at times. It would be easier to-

The door opened, shaking Ed from his idle thoughts.

Abraxus entered, his wand and a long pole in his hands, a small smirk on his pointy face. His expression filled Ed with a sense of apprehension. Staring defiantly into the smug bastard's eyes, he growled, "What do you want, ferret-face?" He was slightly proud of that one. He'd only been there a short while - a day and a half at most, he reckoned - but he'd had time to think up suitable insults.

However, the pale wizard only smirked more, and Ed began to feel odd...like something was moving about in his head. Magic? What else could it be? He didn't know _what_ kind of magic it was, but there was no way in hell that he would let anyone mess with his head, so he pushed back. Or tried to. He wasn't quite sure how it should work, but it felt like he was resisting _something_. Obviously he wasn't pushing back hard enough, because the memories overtook him.

 _Hohenheim, pausing in the doorway, promising that he'd be back soon. Waving goodbye cheerfully._

"Stop!" he shouted, throwing himself forward against his bonds, hair loosening from his braid and falling around his face. "Bastard!

Raising his eyebrows, the wizard tsked imperiously. "Brat."

 _His mother's funeral, where Al was clutching his hand and they were both weeping. Pinako and Winry stood a short way behind them._

"I said...stop!" Ed groaned, pushing harder against the fingers in his mind.

 _Hand shaking, he smeared his blood on the inside of the armor. "Give me back my brother!"_

Ed hissed and bit his tongue, shoving the wizard out of his head. His mouth tasted like blood, but it was better than those evil wizard bastards rifling through his head.

With a muffled, angry cry, Abraxus knocked his chair over, and Ed hit the floor heavily, his shoulder taking most of the damage. The sneering wizard brandished the pole, which Ed now saw was a cane. Hitting it sharply against the alchemist's shins, he shouted, "Tell me about Amestris!"

Ed didn't reply. Actually, he was trying to come up with a witty response. Sure, his situation was bad - horrible, really - but he wasn't going to join them and he wasn't going to tell them anything, so he had nothing better to do than to come up with retorts.

As he lay there, however, he felt something cold and sharp-edged against his thumb. A nail. Contorting his hands so that he could feebly grip at whatever it was, Ed managed to move it back and forth a tiny bit. The wizards had tied his hands behind the chair (the side of which was digging painfully into his inner arm) and bound them with some sort of rope. It was presumably magical, which made escape a bit harder. But Ed had time and his sharp wits.

While this happened, the wizard had continued whacking the cane across his shins and barking questions. With each (futile) swing, he hit harder. Of course, matching a sturdy wooden cane against Ed's steel leg would inevitably lead to one end. With a splintering crack, the cane broke.

Chuckling at Abraxus' dumbfounded expression as he stared down at his broken cane, Ed continued to struggle with the nail. The feeling in his flesh arm was beginning to fade.

"What…" the wizard muttered, anger beginning to color his face. He glanced at Ed's legs, then back to the broken stick, the back at Ed's legs again. Kneeling, he shoved the legs of Ed's pants up to his knees, eyes widening when he saw the automail.

"What is this?" Abraxus asked, voice rough.

. . .

Wincing, Ed shifted a little. After uprighting his chair, Abraxus had called in numerous other wizards and witches, and they had curiously examined his metal leg, then detached it from his leg stump. It hurt a lot more than it should've, because the wizards had no idea what they were doing. They had then taken away his leg, presumably to disassemble it somewhere. He sighed. Escape would be hard with only one leg, but if he could get his hands free (and avoid losing his right arm, too), he could transmute himself a pegleg or something. Winry would be so pissed.

But that was not his biggest concern. Eventually the wizards would realize that he would never tell them anything. Never. If he didn't get out before that, he was dead. With renewed vigor, he continued wiggling the nail. It was a lot looser than it had been when he'd started loosening it, but he had a ways to go.

He sighed.

. . .

Abraxus was at his wits' end. He now had only seven days - a week - to at least gain information about Amestris from the stubborn blonde, and he wasn't budging. Torture was out of the question - for now. The Dark Lord wanted the Amestrian as untouched as possible, but he would understand if it was for the sake of valuable information.

So Abraxus paced. The Imperius curse? No, he'd already ruled that out. Bribery? No, he'd tried that. He'd thought that maybe digging through the Amestrian's memory would shake him, but the stubborn brat had, amazingly, pushed him out. Abraxus realized he really didn't know what to do. Then it hit him. Of course!

Veritaserum.

. . .

Edward Elric was sitting there, wide awake, his eyes trained on the door. It was slightly unnerving, but Abraxus brushed it aside. In his hand was a small, glossy vial.

" _Immobulus_ ," he whispered, waving his wand at the blonde, who didn't even have the chance to look confused.

Wordlessly he crossed the room to Edward's chair. Using his fingers to open the Amestrian's mouth (he'd have preferred not have had to do that, but there was no way around it), he poured a quarter of the vial into the blonde's mouth.

Performing the countercurse for _Immobulus_ , he stepped back. Good work so far, he thought to himself.

"What is your name?" It was advisable to ensure that the potion worked. It had never _not_ worked, but one never knew.

"Edward Elric," the Amestrian said, surprised that he had answered.

Smirking, he asked, "You are a soldier in the Amestrian Military, are you not?"

"Yes," Edward said, glaring at him.

There was no point in dragging this out.

"Can you perform alchemy?"

No reply. The blonde was glaring at him, biting his teeth together.

. . .

The wizard bastards had truth serum! Ed wasn't that surprised. The first two questions had been obvious, but this one…

It hurt. Damn, it hurt not to answer, but alchemy was his surprise weapon, his ace in the hole, his ticket out of there. Would the potion let him use a temporary truth? 'Not right now.' It was true, but was it true enough? Evidently not. The answer welling in his throat was, 'Yes.'

He couldn't risk it. Was there any way to avoid answering? A million ideas flooded through his mind, all more or less useless. The pain was building. He'd have to answer soon. Damn. At this point it should be fairly obvious.

Then he had a sudden, brilliantly stupid idea. Still glaring at the impatient wizard, he leaned forward with all his might, pushing against the ground with his foot. As he tipped forward, realization dawned on Abraxus's face.

Ed hit the ground hard, angling his head as best he could so that when he hit -

. . .

"Owwww," he groaned, blinking blearily. Why did his head hurt? He was being questioned, and then...and then he had an amazingly stupid idea. Could he have thought of a better way to avoid spilling the beans, though? He doubted it, but still…

Ed was alone in the room again. Considering that they had a deadline, his captors really didn't spend a lot of time with him. His head throbbed, and he moved to brace it against his hand, only to find that his hands were bound. Dammit.

Then he remembered the nail. It was already pretty loose. With a painful tug, he wrenched it forward. It was still lodged in the wood, but he had enough of it out to get a decent grip on it. He began to pull at it in earnest, when the door opened. That was just like the ferret-faced bastard, coming in at an inconvenient moment.

Golden eyes flashing with defiance, he faced the pale man. At some point between when he'd woken up and now, he'd decided not to speak a word. The seriousness of the situation was finally sinking deeper into him. So he observed. Abraxus was moving as he usually did, unhurriedly, with his nose turned up. They still had time. But the wizard's face was paler. Not as much time as they wanted, maybe even needed.

That was obvious. There would never be enough time.

How long had he been out?

How long did he have?

"Where is Amestris?"

What?

The wizard raised his wand.

Not again.

" _Crucio!_ "

Not again.

shitshitshitshitshit it hurt - the pain - dammit - stopstopstop - stop - makeitstopplease -

No.

He'd been holding his breath - his screams. He wouldn't break. The bastards couldn't break him. Al. Al was waiting for him. Winry. Pinako. Even Riza and Armstrong. The Marauders?

No.

"Tell me! Where is Amestris!"

They didn't know where Amestris was?

Ed glared at the wizard.

Irritation. " _Crucio!_ "

there it was again thepain shit stopstop - - nonononono -

Back arching in pain, Ed grit his teeth, tears coming to his eyes.

It's okay to cry. It's okay to show pain. Just be strong. Not one word. Think of the people waiting for you in Amestris. Think of the satisfaction of seeing those fucking bastards driven up walls by your silence.

"Tell me about your leg!"

Ed stayed silent. The pain was hitting his nerves now. His arm and leg began to shake. Okay. It hurt. Okay. His automail fingers were still wrapped around the nail. Passing it off as shaking as well, he wiggled it. Looser.

Impatience. " _Crucio!_ "

andthe pain ithurtso much - bastard - shitshitSHIT - - - - painpain

Groaning against his teeth, Ed felt a tear slide down his cheek. Okay. His limbs were shaking. Okay. That wasn't important. If Amestris was infiltrated by wizards, if it fell, Al and Winry and Pinako and everyone would be gone. Al would never get his body back. This pain was nothing. He'd lost an arm for his brother. This was nothing.

The nail was so much looser now. Nearly there.

The wizard had underestimated Ed.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" crooned Abraxus, "I can make it stop. If you just tell me…"

Ed wanted to kick him, but his leg was shaking badly. He settled for a glare. He'd kick the pointy-faced bastard's ass later.

Something snapped deep behind the wizard's eyes.

" _Crucio!_ "

Gasping for breath, Ed tried to focus his eyes on the floor. His sight was blurry, and the residual pain was pumping through his veins, his limbs shaking uncontrollably. Every breath was sharp and shuddering.

His mind was unravelling. Some small, secure part of himself watched in horror as he struggled to formulate a thought, only for it fell apart.

"Brother."

Al's voice. He twitched violently.

"Brother!"

He couldn't be here.

"You're right, brother. I'm not here."

There. He was right.

"You promised to get my body back, remember, brother? And I promised to get your arm and leg back. Don't you remember, brother?"

That was right. He promised. To Al. For Al. He had to pull himself together, even if it hurt, because Al needed him, and, dammit, he'd die for Alphonse.

It snapped back into place. His breathing evened.

His limbs shook less.

It was still blurry, but that was okay.

The nail was free, cradled in his hand.

Slowly, he pretended to fall unconscious. Someone - Abraxus - slapped him. He didn't react. He needed to be alone for what must happen next.

Ed had done it before, sometimes, using a sharp object to etch an alchemic array into something.

The sound of footsteps faded. The door slammed.

What did he need now?

The magical (what else could they be?) ropes. How could he get them off? Ed couldn't scratch an array into them, considering what they were made of.. However magical they were, he assumed they were made of the same stuff as any other rope. Right? Perhaps fire…

He then realized how dry the room - and his mouth - were. He'd been here for a while, and he'd had only a small amount of water and hardly any food. Not an ideal condition. Combine that with his frayed nerves and it got worse.

Ed could think about that later.

Perhaps he could set his chair on fire?

No. That was stupid.

He could scratch a slightly explosive array into the chair, then activate it while holding his ropes close. Ed might get a little singed, but that wasn't a problem. An explosion was his best best. It would be small, considering the elements he had on hand…

Oh well. At least he had a start.

* * *

 **I hope it wasn't too bad! I'm kind of afraid that I made Ed kind of OOC...oh well.**

 **Well, I hope you liked it! Please review. Criticism is much appreciated!**

 **Au revoir!**


	9. 9

**Hello! It has been _way_ too long since I last updated, and I am so sorry. I moved recently and it was pretty hectic.**

 **So, here's my next chapter. I guess I should warn you that some characters might be OOC. I'm not a good judge of my own writing.**

 **Thank you so much, everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own HP or FMA.**

* * *

It was a jumble of flashing, zooming lights and vague shouting. You'd think that wizards could be better about stealthiness - Ed had read about silent spell-casting during his stay in Diagon Alley. The thought was driven from his mind as he lurched to the side, resting briefly behind a tree. His head still hurt, and his vision was hazy. But the adrenaline rushing through his veins allowed him to ignore that.

There were visible spells, bright flashes of light or tendrils of darkness, and he dodged them well enough - although he was a bit singed, and there was somehow a smear of green paint on his arm - but his problem was the invisible spells. It was impressive - unbelievable, actually - that he'd avoided most of them.

Ed looked down at his slightly shaking hands, trying to steady them. He was nearly free...but how was he going to get out? He'd managed to use the nail to scratch an alchemic array into the chair, turning it to dust. It was essentially deconstruction. Ed had then used some stone from the floor to transmute himself a very rudimentary leg, since the wizards who had him had taken his automail. After that, creating a hole in the wall had been a breeze, and he'd gotten a good look at where he'd been held captive. It was a large, sinister-looking manor with expansive grounds.

He'd run a few yards before the shouting and spell-casting had begun. Now he only had a short way to go. The numerous hedge statues and fountains had saved him more times than he could count.

A white peacock strutted by, squawking loudly as a spell hit it and it turned a nasty shade of purple.

"Dammit!" He hissed. There were tall hedge walls only ten feet away, but no doubt some kind of stone wall behind that. Ed couldn't think straight; the pounding of his head and the shaking in his limbs made sure of that. He could feel his heartbeat, throbbing through his veins.

 _Ba-dum._

The buzz of adrenaline surged through him.

 _Ba-dum._

The pursuing wizards were undoubtedly close.

 _Ba-dum._

Had it only been a few seconds since he'd ducked for cover behind the tree?

 _Ba-dum._

An idea began to grow.

 _Ba-dum._

It was so obvious, he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it the moment he burst through the manor wall.

 _Ba-dum._

No time to spare.

 _Ba-dum._

He clapped his hands together and slammed them against the ground.

 _Ba-dum._

He rose on a wall of earth, the ground around the wall several feet lower than the surrounding yard. The tree rose too, it's roots jutting wildly from his dirt-wave.

Within seconds, Ed's alchemy had him over the hedge and - he had guessed correctly - the grey stone wall. He hit the ground, rolled, and ran. In the distance, against the purpling sky, the glow from a town caught Ed's attention.

 _For Al._

He was already gasping for air.

 _It's for Al._

The weight of his automail was nearly unbearable.

 _Do it for Al._

His vision was blurry.

 _Al._

His chest burned.

 _Winry._

The only thing that kept him going was adrenaline and willpower.

He could see the buildings in the town.

He could see nothing.

He blacked out.

30 yards from a small town, a golden-haired teenage boy in a red coat fell to the ground, hitting it with a _thud_ louder than it should have been for someone his size.

. . .

"Oh my God! Liz, come here!"

"What? Noelle?"

"It's a girl, I think!"

"Huh?!"

"Quick, go run and call for help!"

"Uh - okay!"

. . .

Ed opened his eyes and found himself staring up at a white ceiling. "What the hell..?"

His quiet voice in the suffocatingly quiet room sounded wrong.

A door creaked. It thudded softly as it closed. Quick footsteps approached him.

"You're awake? Good, it's about time!"

Madam Pomfrey.

"What?" He asked, struggling to sit up. He succeeded. "There was a town…"

"Yes, we know. A former student living there heard the hubbub about a strange young man found just near the town. He asked to see you - he said he had an odd feeling - and found nothing that unusual…except your hair - regardless, he contacted Dumbledore and within the hour you were back at Hogwarts."

"How long have I been...asleep?"

"You only came in last night, only a few hours after you were at the town, after the students were in bed. I suppose I ought to get someone to tell your friends. They've been worried sick!"

Ed took in what she'd told him. He hadn't been unconscious for too long, and he'd been found before those bastards from the mansion did.

He looked down at his hands, still gloved. They were still.

It didn't go unnoticed by Madam Pomfrey. "It's a potion I managed to give you in your sleep. It keeps the shaking down."

Her voice was soft.

The door opened, and Dumbledore stepped in, followed closely by Mustang and Winry.

"I'll leave you four to talk," Madam Pomfrey said, and walked away.

"Ed!" Winry cried, running across the room and wrapping him in a hug.

He hugged her back. "Hey, Winry."

"You're awake, shrimp," Mustang said, smirking. He looked tired.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING MINISCULE, BASTARD?!"

"I'm glad to see you're awake, Edward," Dumbledore said, blue eyes twinkling.

Ed scowled at Mustang, then turned to Dumbledore. "Thanks, old man."

If anything, the twinkle in his eyes brightened.

"How long was I gone? It was...hard to keep track of time."

The happy mood vanished.

"It was only a bit over a week, Ed," Winry told him, looking downcast.

A silence settled briefly over them.

"Where were you, Ed?" Winry's voice was quiet.

"I -"

"The Malfoy Manor. The town where we picked you up was nearby," Dumbledore interjected. "I'm afraid I have some important business to attend to. Would you be willing to come to my office tomorrow evening, to discuss this further?"

"Sure," Ed replied.

The elderly Headmaster turned and left.

Mustang nodded at Ed, muttered, "Riza might kill me," and left the infirmary as well.

Ed and Winry were left alone. He opened his mouth, about to say something, when Winry hugged him again, crying. "You idiot...I was so worried...what if you'd died?"

Momentarily frozen, Ed wrapped his arms tentatively around her. "And leave Al and you behind? Never." He paused, then whispered, "I promise."

Winry drew back, sniffling. "I'd better owl Al and tell him you're alright."

"Owl him, huh?"

"I know. It's so weird." She chuckled. They both burst into laughter.

"This is kind of ridiculous, isn't it, Winry?"

"Yeah…"

At a loss of words, they both stared down at their hands.

After a while, Winry looked up. "Ed, I-"

The doors slammed open, and the Marauders rushed in. With a chorus of, "Ed!", they crowded around his bed.

"Are you alright?"

"You're alive!"

"Where were you, mate?"

"Madam Pomfrey found us and told us. What happened?"

"You were taken by the Death Eaters, weren't you?"

"Oi, shut up! Ed can't talk over all your noise!"

Once they had quieted down, Ed told them. "Yeah, I was taken by Death Eaters. They wanted to know about Amestris. I didn't tell those bastards anything. I escaped yesterday and made it to a nearby town. Apparently someone there told Dumbledore and...here I am."

"What about your automail? Did they find it?"

"I've still got my arm, but.." Ed cringed, looking at Winry (who looked vaguely annoyed), "They took my leg."

"You've got a metal leg, too?! Bloody -"

"WHAT? EDWARD!" Winry shouted, pulling a wrench from some hidden pocket and throwing it at him. It hit Ed in the center of his forehead and he fell off the bed.

Shooting scared glances at the fuming mechanic, James and Sirius helped Ed get back into his bed.

"Um, h-hey Winry…?"

She glared at him. "I'll make you a new one, idiot." A dark aura surrounding her, she turned and stormed out of the infirmary.

Shaking, Ed turned back to the Marauders.

"You've got a bloody terrifying girlfriend, mate."

Ed turned bright red, and started waving his hands frantically at the Marauders, palms out. They watched with amusement as he shouted, "She- she's not my girlfriend!"

Outside, still within earshot of the infirmary, Winry blushed.

. . .

"So, what else happened?" James asked Ed.

"Nothing much. There was a guy - Lucius. Do you know him? He looked close to our age." The alchemist replied.

"Lucius Malfoy? I'd never forget that stuck-up, weasel-faced, pampered, snooty-"

Remus cut Sirius off. "Yes, we know Lucius. He graduated a year or two ago, though."

"Malfoy, huh? According to the old man, that's where I was kept. Malfoy Manor," Ed said, staring into the distance.

"They're purebloods, and probably the most loyal supporters of Voldemort," Sirius said, wrinkling his nose.

"Wait - how did you escape?" James asked Ed eagerly. Remus watched his messy-haired friend, smiling slightly. In the week that Ed had been missing, James had been sleeping less, drifting off more, and had generally lost a bit of his shine. Seeing him revitalized made him happy, and helped him realize something: the mysterious Major from Amestris had taken a place in their lives.

Not only James had been changed by Ed's brief disappearance. Sirius had lashed out more, Peter had lost weight, and Remus himself had felt sick - nearly as bad as he felt around the full moon.

Remus turned his attention back to the group.

"-escape? Well...there was a loose screw in the chair for some reason, so I pried it loose, and then I...scratched a simple array into the chair, and managed to get out of my ropes. I pretty much just fought my way out after that…"

"With only one leg?"

"I made a new one."

"With alchemy?"

Ed shrugged.

James had sharper intuition than one might think, and he knew Ed was hiding something.

"Ed, can you use alchemy?" It was a careful question.

The blonde sighed. "Colonel Bastard told me to keep it quiet, but you already know about my automail...yeah."

He clapped his hands and placed them on the metal frame of the infirmary bed. Blue light crackled briefly, and when it ended, a small metal bird rested on the top of the frame. Ed picked it up and showed it to them. "That part of the frame will be a lot weaker if I don't transmute this bird back." Placing it back on the frame, he clapped his hands and the bird disappeared into the metal again.

"Without an array?" Remus asked, puzzled. "How?"

"We all have our secrets, _Moony_."

* * *

 **Ahahaha! What do you think? Please review!**

 **Was anyone OOC? Is there anything I could improve? What did you like or not like? What do you think that last sentence means?**

 **I hope you all enjoyed! Hopefully I will update soon!**

 **Bye!**


	10. 10

**I'm back! And I made sure to make this chapter longer than most...although I feel it's somewhat of a filler. And I am so sorry about the giant gaps between updates, but laziness and not being inspired make a great combination for not getting anything done. Hopefully, though, I will post a new chapter next week.**

 **Thank you so much, those of you who followed, favorited, and reviewed.**

 **Enjoy! I hope it doesn't suck!**

* * *

"What was that supposed to mean?" James demanded as soon as they left the infirmary. "Do you reckon Ed knows? That you're a…?"

"I don't know," said Remus thoughtfully, gold eyes thoughtful, "He could know...but then again, maybe he doesn't."

"It's hard to tell with Ed. Have you noticed how good he is at, well, hiding things?" Sirius said, glancing at the others for confirmation.

"What're you doing here?"

Lily stood in the hall at the base of the stairway that led to the infirmary, arms full of books and loose papers. Her red hair looked almost brown in the dimness of the corridor.

"Ah, Lily Evans!" James exclaimed, spreading his arms out. "To be graced by your presence...the honor is unequaled." He smiled winningly and winked.

She stared flatly at him. "Like I said…" Lily turned to the others. "Why are you here?"

"Ed! He's back! It turns out that he was-!" James was cut off by Sirius, who clamped a hand over his mouth.

"That's not something you should just shout in the middle of a corridor, idiot!" He whispered fiercely, exasperated.

"We can tell Evans, right?" James whispered back.

They both glanced at her, then turned around with their arms around each other's shoulders. A few moments later they turned around and beckoned Lily closer. Brows furrowed in confusion, she stepped closer. They beckoned again. She sighed and stepped even closer. "He was held at Malfoy Manor, we think. He escaped to a nearby village. It's really impressive, because he had only-"

"We don't tell her that, Prongs!" Sirius said, cutting James off again. The two glared at each other momentarily.

Lily eyed them skeptically, then sighed again. "I'm glad to hear he's back." With that, she left, continuing down the corridor, long red hair swaying behind her.

James stared after her. "I wonder if I can get Ed to guilt-trip her into going on a date with me…"

Remus whacked him.

. . .

"What do you want to talk about, old man?" Ed asked, leaning back in his bed. He could tell the medicine Madam Pomfrey had given him that morning was wearing off; his hands were trembling slightly. He narrowed his eyes momentarily, annoyed.

"I know a few details about what occurred during your time in captivity, Major Elric. However, if you could tell me everything that took place...it would be helpful in our war against Voldemort," Dumbledore said, folding his hands on top of his lap. His blue eyes glinted.

Ed crossed his arms across his stomach. "I was captured in the Forbidden Forest, as you know," he began, his voice flat, "and when I woke up, I was tied to a chair in a big room, full of weirdos in robes. It's all very blurry. A man - Abraxus, I think his name was - was supposed to interrogate me. That bastard, Voldy, told him he had nine days to get the information he wanted - or to get me to join their army.

"I guess the rest of the week was spent trying to do that. You know something odd, old man? They asked me where Amestris was." He laughed shakily, looking off to the side.

"I suppose I should explain something to you, Major Elric. Amestris...Drachma, Xing...they're on a somewhat alternate plane of reality. It slightly overlaps with our plane of reality, so travel between the two is possible. That is why, despite your origin on the other plane, you were not confused by the existence of England, which doesn't exist on your plane. Do you understand?"

"Yes," replied Ed. He leaned forward, golden eyes shining eagerly. "Do you have any books about this?"

"Indeed, Major Elric." Dumbledore smiled. "I shall have them delivered to you after our meeting."

"Great. Let's see, after all the interrogating-" Ed tried to keep his voice neutral on that word, "-I worked a nail loose from the chair and scratched an alchemic array into the wood, successfully burning it. Then I made myself a leg-" he tapped the replacement under his sheets, "-and put a hole in their wall. I ran, and you know the rest, Dumbles."

Dumbledore smiled again. "Madam Pomfrey told me about the shaking. I have a few guesses as to why that might be, but I think it would be better for me to tell you yourself."

Glancing out of the window next to his bed, Ed took a deep breath and wished his hands and legs would stop shaking. "I have no choice, do I?"

"I'm afraid not."

Another shaky chuckle. Ed's voice was flat, detached. "Cruciatus. Crucio! Again and again and again and again and-!" He stopped, staring off into the distance, the powerful memory making his hands shake violently. "I think - I think, if it weren't for Al, and Winry, I would have gone insane. My hands won't stop shaking. I never thought anyone would make make my hands shake. I mean, I've fought homunculi...Scar...I've seen…" Again, he stopped, and looked at Dumbledore. "Next time I meet those bastards, I'm going to kick their asses."

"I'll leave you to rest. Thank you for your time, Major Elric."

. . .

A week later, Ed was released from his sickbed, immediately after Winry attached his new leg to his port. "Sorry," she said, "I could have gotten it done sooner, but I can't pull all-nighters here."

Testing out his new automail, he commented, "Thank you, Winry. I missed having two legs."

He was released in time for lunch, and was met at the doors to the Great Hall by the Marauders, who, although they had visited him frequently during his brief stay in the infirmary, cheered as he entered the hall. "Ed! You're free!"

"You have no idea how true that is," Ed chuckled.

Winry had left shortly before he made his way to the Great Hall, surprising him with a strong hug. She'd lingered at Hogwarts long enough, and had clients back in Rush Valley she had to attend to.

"Did I miss anything today?" Ed asked. The blonde had been updated at least once a day about the goings-on in Hogwarts: Alicia Karter's unfortunate half-transformation into a mongoose, the Muggle Studies classroom had mysteriously turned into a rainforest, and someone had painted the entire twenty-twelfth floor (it only existed on rainy Saturdays and the fifth Sunday of each Leap Year, but occasionally popped up for a few weeks when a chicken mated with a ferret at midnight) a bright red.

"Sorry, mate, but the flood of trickery and pranks has dried up. Would you like to see the twenty-twelfth floor tonight, before it disappears?" Sirius replied, a mischievous glint in his eye.

No words were needed; the look Ed gave him was answer enough.

. . .

"Behold, our golden genius friend, the twenty-twelfth floor," James announced grandly, spreading out his arms. The twenty-twelfth floor was large and sprawling, and could be accessed through a broom closet in the old Dark Arts classroom that had been abandoned due to water coming in from an unfound source. Ed glanced down at his wet boots.

When they entered the twenty-twelfth floor, they found themselves in a large, violently red hall, numerous doors lining the walls, which seemed to glow.

"It looks like there's a lot of rooms, but there's not. Tons of these doors lead to corridors that connect to each other, so you'd just walk a lot and find yourself back here," James told Ed knowledgeably, his glasses flashing red.

"Impressive," the alchemist said, turning around to take in all of the massive hall. "Was this done by spell, or did someone actually take the time to paint it by hand?"

"How would we know?" Sirius asked, turning to face him with a grin, quickly covered by an innocent expression. "It's not like we did it."

"Of course," Ed replied, smirking.

"Um..should we show you around, Ed?" Peter asked.

"Sure," he said, casting another glance around the fabulously huge hall. "This school is weird. Don't you have classes right now?"

"Sure, we have Magical History, but Remus went to excuse us and take notes for us. It's his turn," James told him, smirking a little.

. . .

The tour was long, but not uninteresting. The rooms were unusual, to say the least. They left, and got a chance to see the twenty-twelfth floor cease to exist. Through the broom closet door, the brilliantly red room twisted and spiralled for a split second, then, soundlessly, there was only a broom closet again.

The Marauders didn't have much time to stick around, and took off running through the halls in order to make it to dinner before it began. Ed easily outstripped the other boys, feeling elated that his new automail was so light.

"You've got two limbs made of metal, Ed! How the bloody hell are you running so fast?" Sirius shouted.

"Military, remember? I'm in shape!" The blonde shot back, grinning. His expression turned to that of yearning. "I miss sparring with Al."

"Al's your brother, yeah?" James asked as they slowed to a walk, approaching the Great Hall. Ahead of them, a few straggling groups of students entered the hall.

"Yep. I'd do anything for him, and the thought of him…" Ed's voice dropped into a whisper, and they barely heard the rest of his sentence, "...it's the only thing that keeps me going."

Unsure about what to say in response to this, and unsure if they'd even heard him right, the Marauders remained silent until they sat down. Seconds later, food appeared on their golden plates.

"I'm glad we didn't miss it," James exclaimed gratefully, heaping food on his plate. He looked at Remus, who sat next to him. "You get our notes?"

The tired-looking Gryffindor nodded. "I'll give them to you to copy after dinner."

"What excuse did you give Binns?" Sirius asked, leaning across the table to reach for a pitcher. After pouring himself a cup, he offered it to Ed, who had been lost in thought. The blonde eyed him suspiciously.

"Is that milk?"

"No."

Ed took the pitcher.

Remus laughed softly. "I told him that the three of you were helping Ed, who is still infirm, to get back on his feet."

"Ed? Infirm?" Sirius laughed.

"He outran us all on our way here," Peter said.

Their conversation turned to jovial chatter, and time marched on.

. . .

"Seriously, when are we going to ask Ed about...well, everything? Think about it. We don't know how he lost his arm and leg, how he can use alchemy without a transmutation circle, what happened at Malfoy Manor, what he meant back when we first visited him in the infirmary...I mean...what do we really know about Ed?" James exclaimed, pacing in circles.

"What, do you want a list?" Sirius asked, lounging back in a squashy armchair. The light of the fire danced in the air.

The four Marauders sat for a while in silence.

"Well, it's too late right now to feel frustrated about everything we don't know. Why don't we just ask him later, and go to bed now?" Remus suggested, yawning wolfishly from his spot at the fire.

"Good call, Moony. You're the brains of this operation for a reason, mate," smirked Sirius, getting up and stretching.

James followed him closely as he made his way to the stairs. "What was that supposed to mean? Aren't I the leader?"

"Sure, but you're not the brains."

"Hmph! I'm insulted, Padfoot!"

"But it's true."

"Git."

"Bloody idiot."

Chuckling, the two disappeared up the stairs. Remus got up, relishing the heat from the fire, and offered a hand to Peter. "Those two," he sighed, shaking his head and smiling wryly.

"You really think we should just ask Ed?" Peter asked, allowing Remus to help him up.

"It's of no use to just sit and speculate. If we want answers, we should ask, don't you think?"

. . .

Colonel Roy Mustang rested his chin on his hand and glared at his minions, or more accurately, students. He was glad that Riza wasn't there to keep him from enjoying himself, or as she said, 'abusing his power'.

"I assume you've all completed your reports? Hand them in," he said, smirking slightly. After all of his minions had shuffled up to his desk and handed him their papers - he'd supplied them with it because parchment was ridiculous and made him sneeze. Roy had also included pens in his supply list because quills were even more ridiculous and blotted too much. Did magic really have to equal total antiquity? He shook his head and sighed.

"We've covered the basics of elements, alchemic arrays, cautions to take, and Equivalent Exchange, correct? Before any of you get it into your tiny brains to try something idiotic, I'm going to teach you brats the taboos of alchemy. There are three major ones, and a whole bunch of minor ones that will be covered as the things they concern come up."

Mustang looked slowly around at the class, making sure that they were paying attention.

"You shouldn't turn lead into gold. We already discussed this in our first class. As I said then, it messes with the economy. You should remember that, minions."

A pause.

"Human sacrifice. This should be fairly obvious. It's not just an alchemic taboo, but a taboo of society nowadays. The reasons behind this should be clear. It's very serious, punishable in Amestris by a lifetime sentence or death."

He stopped again, drawing in a breath. The air in the room felt heavy.

"Human transmutation. Not only is this outlawed, but extremely difficult to pull off. The penalty for breaking this is death, but a lot of the foolish alchemists who attempt it don't survive trying it. I should clarify. There are different kinds of human transmutation. Binding souls to objects is a mild form of human transmutation, and the penalty for that, depending on the circumstances, can be less severe than the penalty for the other kinds of human transmutation, such as melding human bodies and animal bodies to create horrific chimaeras, and the kind that most people don't survive. Bringing the dead back to life."

The silence was unbearably loud, the dead air seeming to lie still in the classroom. Slowly, a hand was raised.

"M-most people, sir?"

"Yes. There are some, an unbelievably lucky - or clever - some, who survive. And they gain the ability to do what no other alchemists can do - transmute without an array. But they lose something. Organs. Senses. Body parts. They survive, but they don't succeed." Mustang brought his hands down on his desk. "What they bring back, it is said, is merely a grotesque mockery of the dead person they loved. Not only is human transmutation tabooed because of the risk, but the inhumanity of the results."

. . .

"Do you reckon that Ed…" Peter wondered faintly, twitching.

"Broke the most serious taboo? Human transmutation?" finished Remus, furrowing his brow. "It fits. He can perform alchemy without an array, and he's paid the price; his arm and leg. But who was he trying to bring back?"

The four Marauders were walking slowly down a corridor, on their way to lunch after the Alchemy lesson.

"Hey, how was Colonel Bastard's lesson?" A familiar voice called, and they turned around to see Ed striding towards them.

"Gloomy. Why weren't you there, Fullmetal?" James responded.

"I called in sick. Gloomy, huh? Did he spend the entire time making a speech about why female officers should wear miniskirts?" Ed grinned widely.

"No...he talked about taboos," Remus said, quirking an eyebrow.

The blonde's eyes darkened, but he kept smirking. "The whole 'don't turn lead to gold, don't sacrifice or transmute people' spiel?"

"Um...listen, Ed, we've been meaning to ask you-" Peter began, stepping towards Ed.

Just then, the blonde's eyes widened, as if he'd suddenly remembered something."Sorry, I gotta go, can you ask me later?"

"Okay...see you around, then," Sirius told him, but the alchemist had already taken off down the corridor.

They watched him go, and when the last corner of his long red coat disappeared around the corner, James said, "I wonder…"

"What?"

"How he runs so fast. I mean, considering his metal limbs…"

The others sighed.

In the quiet corridor, alight with the noontime sun streaming through the old, arching windows, there was a faint sense of disquiet.

* * *

 **That's it! Thank you for reading!**

 **In the upcoming chapters, I plan to add in more Lily, Snape, and other such exciting things, although I honestly have no idea what I'm doing, so there might not be much plot, but that can be worked on!**

 **Again, please review, and remember criticism and ideas for what could happen are much appreciated!**

 **May fortune smile upon you all.**


	11. 11

**Hello, all! It has been waaaaaay too long, hasn't it? Sorry.**

 **Anyway, here's my new chapter. I will try (and probably fail, but who knows?) to update at least once before 2017.**

 **I hope it's not crap. Enjoy!**

 **(Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or HP.)**

* * *

"It's good to see you, Fullmetal Alchemist," Fuhrer King Bradley said, looking up at the castle. "And very good to see Hogwarts again. Would you like a melon?"

He handed a melon to Ed, who accepted with a rather confused 'thank you' and then quickly looked away, wondering about the connection between the Fuhrer and melons. The time for his annual assessment had come, and King Bradley himself had come to assess him. The Fuhrer had been to Hogwarts before, back when the most powerful wizards in England discovered Amestris, nearly eleven years ago.

"Sir," Mustang said, saluting and stepping forward, "Shall we go inside?"

"Yes, I think we should," Bradley said, "It looks like a storm is coming." He turned his head and squinted at the horizon, where dark clouds were gathering.

. . .

On the next day, his assessment would take place. Ever since he'd joined the military three years ago, the Fuhrer had always passed Edward's assessment reports without reading through them, saying that his work had always been satisfactory. However, not having had any missions since halfway through the summer, Fuhrer King Bradley would actually look through Ed's report and watch his physical examination.

The physical examination would simply be Ed fighting Colonel Mustang, and after Ed handed in his report, the Fuhrer would linger for a few days to 'take in the sights of Hogwarts' and then leave.

A large portion of the field had been set aside and multiple layers of protective spells had been cast around it, due to the destructive nature of their fighting. The assessment would take place during lunch, so students wouldn't be distracted from their classes.

Ed hoped the majority of the student body would be eating inside, because he was often in the spotlight and was bombarded by questions after times of interest (his arrival, an accidental incident involving the Marauders, his return after he went missing). It was irritating, and even he wasn't completely oblivious to a growing fan base.

"What do you think of the Wizarding World, Fullmetal Alchemist?" Ed started and realized that the Fuhrer had asked him a question.

"It's...interesting," he said, shifting in his seat and looking towards the four long tables that the students ate at. Ed was sitting at the teacher's table next to the Fuhrer, and was now feeling rather uncomfortable at how casually the powerful man was talking to him. They'd met before, but only a few times, and not for very long.

"Well said," the Fuhrer chuckled, lifting his spoon to his mouth. "Delicious, as expected of Hogwarts!" He said, pleased.

Ed turned to look at Mustang, who sat on the other side of him, only to find that the Colonel was talking with Professor Michaelis. He resigned himself to a long evening spent feeling uncomfortable in the presence of the Fuhrer. At least he wasn't required to wear the stiff blue uniform that most others did.

. . .

The wind blew around them, and the sky was pale, but it wasn't chilly. Ed stood facing Mustang out on the grass surrounding the magical school. The Fuhrer and Dumbledore (who had joined them because alchemy intrigued him) were standing off to the side, safe from their fight due to the numerous magical barriers that had been prepared.

"Ready?" Mustang smirked, lifting his gloved hand.

"That's a stupid question," Ed responded with a grin, then clapped his hands.

For a brief moment, there was silence.

Then, with a whisper, the wind picked up and the blonde alchemist slammed his hands down on the ground. There was a bright light, then a large fist rose up underneath Mustang, who leapt off and snapped his fingers, sending a burst of flame towards Ed. He dove to the side, rolled, and came up with his hands together. He grinned and touched the ground, pulling up a long spear.

Ed charged towards the Colonel and jabbed the spear at him. The dark-haired Amestrian dodged, sending a burst of flame at the teen and narrowly missing. Ed jabbed again and Mustang caught it between his hands, yanking it away. It flew off to the side and skittered a few yards until it hit the magical barriers.

Due to his limited options, Mustang abandoned alchemy for the moment and engaged Ed in hand-to-hand combat. Ed flipped away and landed lightly on his feet, clapping his hands together.

From the sidelines, Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling despite the fact that the sun was behind him. "Those two seem to be enjoying themselves."

"It reminds me of my age," the Fuhrer said.

"You're not old yet," Dumbledore chuckled.

The Fuhrer shifted and replied, "That's certainly true, but I am old enough to appreciate the taste of fine wine."

"Oh?" Dumbledore said, "It seems we have something in common. It's a shame I didn't know the first time you visited, or I would have arranged to have some samples brought."

King Bradley laughed. "It just so happens that I brought some along. After these two finish, why don't we enjoy some?"

"I'm flattered! I accept your offer," Dumbledore responded. The two men smiled at each other in silent appreciation of alcohol.

. . .

"Wow!" Peter exclaimed from where the four Marauders sat beneath the tree, watching the fight.

"They're really incredible," James said, "Now I understand how Ed escaped from the Death Eaters."

They fell silent, the wind whispering through the tree leaves and making the grass dance around them.

. . .

The fight only lasted for half an hour, and the victor was unclear when the dust settled. The Fuhrer took a brief moment to congratulate both State Alchemists on their excellent fighting before leaving with Dumbledore.

A few steps away from the two rather battered alchemists, the Fuhrer did a quick about-face and beckoned Ed closer.

"I would like to speak with you in private before I depart this evening, Fullmetal Alchemist."

Curious, the blonde nodded. "What for?"

"Various reasons, Mr Edward Elric." He turned back towards Dumbledore. "I have to enjoy a glass of wine with this fine gentleman now."

Ed watched, golden eyes puzzled, as the primary leader of his country walked across the lawn towards a castle that was actually a school for magic and wondered what the hell had happened to his usual life of chases, fights, and research.

Colonel Mustang's laughter jolted him out of his thoughts, and he turned around to find the annoying man standing there, chuckling. The black-haired Amestrian smirked as he adjusted his gloves. "You lose gracefully, Fullmetal."

"Lose?" Ed scoffed, eyeing the Colonel, eyes flashing. "I'm not the one who lost."

The Colonel chuckled again. "Believe what you will." He laughed grandly and walked away, uniform flowing in the wind.

"Colonel, you're walking in the wrong direction!" Someone called, and the two State Alchemists turned to see the Marauders standing there.

It was true; the Colonel was 20 metres away from the Forbidden Forest. He laughed again and performed a quick turnaround, striding quickly past Ed, avoiding his gaze.

Meanwhile, the Marauders crowded around Ed, slapping his back and shoving each other. "That was brilliant, Ed!" "Fantastic!" Once they had finished showering him with praise, they stepped back a bit.

"Where'd you learn how to fight like that?" Sirius asked, crossing his arms and shooting a small grin at Ed.

The blonde's smirk disappeared, and a shadow of a past trauma passed behind his eyes. His gaze slipped away. "It was a dark time...a very dark time…" The Amestrian shuddered. A cloud passed overhead.

"Wh-what happened to Ed?" James whispered in Sirius's ear, very afraid for Ed.

"I don't know, mate. I don't think I want to know." He replied, eyeing their foreign friend.

. . .

After dinner, Ed managed to find his way to the Fuhrer's rooms, where he found the one-eyed man waiting, sitting in a velvet high-backed chair. He had his fingers laced together under his chin. In the somewhat unreliable candlelight, Ed could almost swear the man looked villainous.

The moment passed.

"What did you wanna talk about, sir?" Ed asked. He folded his arms across his chest, so as not to seem so 'military dog'.

"You were kidnapped by the Death Eaters a short while ago, and managed to make a clean escape. You submitted a full report, detailing all events occurring from the moment of your capture to the moment of your safe arrival at the village from which you were retrieved by the wizards of Hogwarts. Is that correct, Fullmetal Alchemist?"

The blonde nodded, and the Fuhrer lowered his hands. "Yeah."

"The army of Voldemort is an enemy to us all." The Fuhrer paused and shifted. "I trust that you did not give them any information regarding Amestris or alchemy. However…" He paused again, looking Ed straight in the eyes. "You were tortured. Are you sure there's no lingering psychological trauma? I'm concerned. You're one of our most promising - alchemists." The pause in his words was unnoticable.

"I'm fine, sir. I've been through worse. Psychologically. Physically, it hurt like a bitch." The shaking had stopped eight days ago. The psychological bit hadn't lasted nearly as long. Ed would still like to get revenge on the sly bastard who'd tortured him.

"That's good to hear, Fullmetal."

"Is that all, sir?"

"Yes. You can go now."

Ed turned and left, feeling awkward.

. . .

"Where were you, mate?" James asked, rolling onto his back. In his hands was a deck of Chocolate Frog cards, and in his mouth was a Sugar Quill. They were going through a newly-found stash of Hogsmeade candy from somewhat recently (the Ice Mice hadn't begun to try to chew through their bag yet, so it hadn't been more than a year).

The blonde flopped down onto his bed. "I was talking to the Fuhrer. It was short and awkward."

Sirius tossed him a Fizzing Whizbee. "Cheer up."

Ed sighed and studied the candy absently. "I still don't understand it. How the hell do these work?"

"Magic," Remus told him, looking up from his book. "I know it's hard to accept, but…" He shrugged and picked through a pile of candy by his elbow, selecting a Cauldron Cake.

"Hey, Ed - do you know how to play Exploding Snap?" Peter asked, holding up a deck of cards.

"No."

He laughed. "Want to learn?"

Ed looked skeptically at the deck of cards. "Exploding Snap - as in exploding? I'm...interested."

. . .

"He didn't have a wand, My Lord," Abraxus said, looking out of the hole that the blonde Amestrian had somehow put in the wall of Malfoy Manor.

Beside him stood a tall, pale man clothed in flowing black robes. He spoke in a high, spine-chilling voice. "He didn't?"

"No, sir. If I may-?"

"Yes?"

"Perhaps Amestris has perfected wandless magic?" The man asked tentatively, rubbing his fingers across his wand. He snuck a glance at the leader of his elite cause. Personally, the only reason he followed him was Voldemort's immense power. The man himself repulsed Abraxus. His waxen skin, his skeletal hands, his slitted red eyes, his snakish eyes, the way he looked down at everyone around him as though they were cockroaches to be crushed underfoot.

Voldemort nodded slowly. "And...where is Amestris?"

Abraxus began to rub his wand harder. "We don't know, My Lord."

Abraxus could practically smell the displeasure radiating off of the Dark Lord. "You...don't know?" His hiss was colder than the chill of death, and the look in his eyes as he slowly, deliberately directed it towards Abraxus was paralyzing.

"Forgive me, my Lord," Abraxus murmured hastily, bowing his head. He remained still, like a rabbit catching a glimpse of a fox too close to run from. He would stay like that until Voldemort in some way pardoned him.

"You are dismissed," Voldemort told him, words clipped and cold. Quietly, he exhaled, releasing tension from his chest, and he slipped out of the room.

Alone in a large, deafeningly silent room, a tall, pale not-man gazed out of a hole in the wall and narrowed his eyes. "Amestris."

. . .

"Hey, Prongs, mate, are we ever going to ask Ed about human transmutation?"

"Oi, Wormtail, that's kind of sudden, isn't it?" James replied, looking up from his homework, pushing his glasses onto the top of his head and making his hair messier than before. (He'd begun to wear reading glasses about a month before the school year had started.)

"It's been nagging at me. I know it's not any of our business to stick our noses in anyone else's life...but Ed is our friend. Even if we don't learn about the human transmutation, we don't know much about Ed. He's an orphan, isn't he? And he's in the military. He's smart. What else do we know?" Peter muttered, scratching his head.

The room was buzzing with the crackling fire and the thoughts in their heads.

Ed entered the room. "What's going on?" He had an armful of books and his hair was tied back in a high ponytail.

"Homework. You?" Sirius asked. His hair was tied back, too, (although it wasn't anywhere near as long as Ed's) and there were multiple, rather bedraggled, quills behind his ears.

"No, I'm done with that already. This is some research I'm doing."

Remus glanced at him and smiled. He looked pale and somewhat sickly. "Military stuff?"

"Kind of. You look sick."

"Thanks. You're quite the charmer."

"I haven't had much time to polish my social skills."

They chuckled, not speaking for a few moments. Then James spoke up. "Hey, Ed, you've got a brother, right?"

"Yeah, Al." Ed flopped down into an armchair, sighing. "Why?"

"Just curious. You joined the military when you were twelve, didn't you? Who took care of him?"

"I did. Sort of. We had-" Ed shuddered, "- Izumi for a teacher. We could take care of ourselves. Why are you guys so curious?"

"Because we want to know you better. Ed, we've known you for a while and we hardly know you."

Ed shrugged. As his only friends were people he'd grown up with, he'd never really had to 'get close' to anyone, so he masked his complete confusion with indifference. "Okay...where do we begin?"

* * *

 **I hope it did not suck. Please review; tell me what you think, what I could improve on, what you would like to see later in the story.**

 **Oh, I would also like to apologize for plot holes and OOC characters. As I have no doubt mentioned many times before, I have no plan for this story and have little to no idea how to portray the characters.**

 **I bid you all farewell!**


	12. Disappointing Interlude (of a sort)

**Hey guys. Sorry for the long wait, and sorry that this isn't a real chapter (I'm doing the thing that I hate, sorry - the fake chapter). I've decided to rewrite Golden Eyes. Since I'm uncertain about the rules for reposting a story, even if it's my own, I will replace each chapter as they are rewritten. The changes will not be significant at first, but I expect to alter the later chapters a lot - sorry.**

 **-QuestionablyCapableGhoul**


	13. Disappointing Interlude 2

**Hello! I posted about a week ago to inform you all that I was rewriting Golden Eyes. I have decided to just replace chapters as I rewrite them, instead of starting a new fic. I am overhauling it, but I'll keep the important bits. Thanks for sticking with me! As of this update, I have replaced the first four chapters. The chapters after that won't make much sense until I rewrite and replace them, but bear with me.**

 **After I get caught up to the first eleven chapters, I will delete both interludes.**

 **-QuestionablyCapableGhoul**


	14. I swear this is the last one

**So, yet another change of plans, I am so sorry. I will begin posting the rewrites on a new story, since the lovely Sakura Lisel has suggested that people might like to compare the two stories. I have restored the first five original chapters, and the new story, for now, will be titled Golden Eyes (rewrite) until I come up with a name that I like more.**

 **So sorry for all the wishy-washy indecisive back-and-forths,**

 **-QuestionablyCapableGhoul**


	15. This is actually the last one! Thanks!

**Hey, everybody. So, this is quite a few months late, but I just barely realized something! I completely forgot to update and let you all know that the rewrite is already up. It's called The Doer Alone Learneth, if anyone is curious.**

 **Thank you all for your support and patience as I muddled through this fic!**

 **-QuestionablyCapableGhoul**


End file.
